Someone Else's Life
by EmmaSwan-Charming2
Summary: His heart skittered, his lungs closed up; he had numbed himself for five days, and suddenly, something about this girl, this beautiful stranger with unruly blonde curls and piercing green eyes, was making him feel again. So, he smiled. Leyton, AU
1. The World Spins Madly ON

_A/N: Hey everyone! I'm currently working on the last chapter of __**Light Years Away**__, so I decided to go ahead and get started on my new story. I've had this idea in my head for awhile, and I hoping it's got a somewhat unique storyline. It's LP of course, but it is AU. Reviews are pretty much my favorite thing ever, so I'd love to know what you think of this idea. Enjoy!_

**Someone Else's Life**

Chapter One: World Spins Madly On

_Woke up and wished that I was dead  
With an aching in my head  
I lay motionless in bed  
I thought of you and where you'd gone  
and let the world spin madly on_

_The Weepies_

The night before Peyton Sawyer was supposed to start school at Tree Hill High School, she couldn't fall asleep until 2:27 a.m.; even then, she promptly woke up at 3:42, drenched in cold sweat and shaking, woken from the same nightmare she'd had for the past five days.

She knew what everyone had told her. Her father, the police, all of them; it hadn't been her fault. They were speeding, they'd run a red light, and the girl wasn't even wearing a seatbelt.

Still, the fact remained that it was _Peyton's car_ that had plowed into the passenger side, her car that caused the impact.

The original plan had been for her to start school the day after the accident, but her father had shot down that idea, insisting that she wait until the following week, give her time to 'recover'.

She saw through this, however. He didn't want her to have to be there the days after, didn't want her to have to see the informal memorial service, watch the fresh grief of the student body.

Peyton shuddered. She'd been relieved, but now it was inevitable; she had to go the school. The same school where the dead girl had gone, the same school where the red-headed girl, the driver of the other car, still went.

They were the first kids her own age she'd seen since moving to Tree Hill, and one of them had been dead (on impact, all the articles said, the impact of _Peyton's_ car) and the other hysterically screaming at her.

She had been reading the articles about the accident and the tributes to the dead girl; there had been a lot of them. It seemed as though she was perfect. Head cheerleader, student body president, prom queen. Remembered as a popular, kind, beautiful girl. A girl with a future.

And now Peyton had to start a new high school as the girl who had indirectly killed Brooke Davis.

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas Scott hated the stares. They followed him down the hallway to his locker. He hated the hushed silence that seemed to occur as soon as he appeared.

He hated their voices; oozing with sympathy. He hated the way every person who spoke to him seemed to unconsciously tilt their heads to the side, their expressions etched with pity. He hated the way everyone said 'How _are_ you?' the exact same way, the inflection on the 'are' so as to sound concerned.

Mostly, though, he hated the stares. When people knew he was looking, the stares were all about sympathy, but at other times, there was a wariness there, and expectation. As though everyone expected him to _behave _a certain way. To break down crying, maybe, or go crazy and start punching lockers.

He had a headache. He had only missed one day of school, the day directly After, but then he hadn't been able to stand the suffocation of his house, the watchful eye of his mother, the constant calls from Haley or Nathan. They all wanted him to _talk about it_.

Still, school was hardly better. The routine had been the same for the past three days; stares, tentative questions. Apart from that, people were stand-offish.

He felt suffocated, exposed, and, often, inexplicably panicked. He felt as though he'd been unexpectedly cast in a role, the Grieving Boyfriend, and wasn't sure how he was supposed to play it. People were watching, waiting for a performance, but he couldn't for the life of him find the proper script.

The school had had a memorial service, and there had been the actual funeral. Now, there was nothing else, no more events connected with The Accident, which seemed absurd. What now? Real life began again?

How the hell did that work?

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton's heart was beating so hard and loud that she would not have been surprised to find out that the other students could hear it.

She moved through the halls as a quick pace, desperately trying not to catch anyone's eye. Her father had tried to tell her that no one would know her connection to the accident ("Not that you did anything wrong", he'd been quick to assure her). Her name had never been mentioned in the articles.

She knew, however, that the red-headed girl, Brooke Davis' best friend, the driver of the other car…_she_ would know.

She dropped her books off, and then went to check into the front office as she'd been told.

Nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other as the receptionist looked her up on the computer, Peyton wondered if she'd imagined the look the woman had given her, the slight coldness of her stare.

_Stop_, she scolded herself. _You're being paranoid._

The first bell had rung by the time she left the office to head to her first class, English. The room wasn't hard to find, as it was fairly close to senior corridor.

As she walked, she noticed what had to have been Brooke Davis' old locker. It was open, and the floor around it was littered with flowers, miniature candles, and a small set of pom-poms.

Peyton moved closer, unable to help herself. The locker was completely covered with photos of Brooke, as well as several large pieces of paper students had scribbled messages on.

Peyton's eyes moved over the photos, feeling slightly nauseous. She suddenly didn't want to be there, in _her _town and _her _school. It didn't feel right.

Finally, she tore herself away and hurried down the hallway again.

She opened the door to the classroom, causing every pair of eyes to shift forward to stare at her. Peyton kept her eyes away from the students, and smiled cautiously at the teacher. "Hi, um…I'm Peyton. Sawyer. I'm supposed to be in this class."

The woman cut her off. "Alright, have a seat."

Peyton headed for an open desk in the middle of the third row, but before she could even put her books down, the girl in the desk next to the empty one, who was wearing a jacket that said "Ravens Cheerleading", said harshly, "Not there."

Peyton froze, confused. The students in the classroom were all shooting her identical warning looks. She turned, instinctively to look at the teacher; there were no other open desks.

The woman, Mrs. Kline, she thought, was regarding her with a somber expression. She pointed a desk that had been pushed to a back corner of the classroom. "You can move that desk forward to the last row."

With sudden clarity, Peyton realized what had happened. Of course she would've been assigned the same English class Broke Davis had been in. And of course she would try to sit in her old seat.

Face burning, Peyton walked to the back of the classroom and dragged the desk forward a little. It was an immense to sit down, away from what she couldn't help but perceive as hostile scrutiny.

She definitely _wasn't _imagining the somber mood of the English class. No one seemed keen to participate in the discussion of _Frankenstein_, and even the teacher's efforts seemed only half-hearted.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Haley and Nathan found him after first period.

They walked up to him at his locker, haley resting her hand lightly on his back and giving him that tiny, sad smile she'd been using for the past few days. "Hey, buddy." Lucas couldn't help but wonder about her quiet tone; it was as though she was visiting him bedside at a hospital. "How ya doin'?"

He shrugged noncommittally, as though this was just a normal everyday politeness. "Okay."

"Sure?" Nathan asked. "We're worried about you, man."

Lucas' throat tightened. His brother and sister-in-law had been trying really hard to be there for him since The Accident. He didn't want to shut them out; but their sympathy and scrutiny made him just as uncomfortable as anyone else's.

"I'll be alright," he said, addressing the inside of his locker more than either of them.

Nathan and Haley exchanged worried glances. Then Haley said hesitantly, "Luke, I saw Rachel yesterday."

He stopped fiddling with his books, but still didn't turn around, "Why?"

"The whole squad went to see her. She's…she's really beating herself up about what happened."

Lucas' eyes hardened suddenly. "_Good__**."**_

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Peyton got through the next two classes with no incidents. Between classes, she scanned the halls nervously for the red headed girl, but she never saw her.

She ate lunch alone, outside at one of the tables. The effects of the death were still apparent throughout the school; hallway conversations seemed quieter, and no one had attempted to talk to Peyton aside from the girl who'd told her not to sit in Brooke's old seat.

She didn't mind. It was, overall, better than she could have hoped for.

She was halfway through her sandwich and listening to her iPod when she saw him.

He was sitting several tables away, with another guy and a girl. He was extremely good-looking, tall and blonde with blue eyes she could see vividly even from the distance. But it wasn't just his good looks; it was though she felt instantly drawn to him; there was something about the sight of him made her heart seize up, sent the air whooshing from her lungs.

Peyton couldn't help but stare. He didn't seem to be talking much, and sometimes didn't even appear to be listening to what his friends were saying.

After awhile, Peyton had a sudden moment of self-awareness; realizing how creepy the staring probably was, she quickly averted her gaze.

Still, thoughts of Brooke Davis seemed to leave her, for the first time all day; actually, if she was being honest, the first time since it had happened.

That was, until she got into her fourth period history class to see the same girl from earlier, who instantly glared at her, along with several others who seemed like they could be cheerleaders.

Before Peyton had even taken a seat, the girl pointed at an empty chair in front of hers. "Don't even try."

Flustered, Peyton hurried once again to the back row, taking a corner seat. She pulled out a piece of paper and began doodling, just to have something else to do.

She didn't look up again until she heard the teacher begin talking. She was startled to notice the blonde guy she'd been staring at during lunch was in this class. He was in the front row, next to the empty desk, so all she could see was his back.

Peyton barely heard a word of the teachers lecture, and when the bell rang she waited until he was out of the classroom before standing to go.

LPLPLPLPLP

One more period of the day. Every day he'd been back, Lucas had found himself immensely relieved by the end of the day. Seven hours of the stares and the whispers began to really rattle him after about five.

He closed his locker and turned around, and suddenly he saw her.

She was watching him, but not in the way everyone else did; there was no wariness or pity in her green eyes, but something else; something he couldn't decipher, but whatever it was it made it impossible to look away. His heart skittered, his lungs closed up; he had numbed himself for five days, and suddenly, something about this girl, this beautiful girl with unruly blonde curls and piercing green eyes, was making him _feel_ again.

So, he smiled.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton had no idea where her next class was. She was standing in the hallway by her locker, feeling like an idiot as she stared at the small printout of the school she'd been given. Then, she noticed him. His locker was across the hall from hers, and once again, she found herself unable to resist watching.

Then, he turned around, and their eyes met. Her first instinct was to look away, completely humiliated, and take off. But something about his gaze made this impossible. There was an amazingly long moment of eye contact, in which the rest of the students seemed to melt away.

Then, he smiled. It was a small smile, tentative but sweet. And because he was the first person all day to show any sign of friendliness, Peyton found herself walking across the hall to him.

Ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks, Peyton smiled awkwardly. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Um…I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for Mr. Serrat's class. I'm, um, new." She added the last bit needlessly.

He smiled easily. "I can show you, if you want. It's on my way."

She smiled back. "Thanks."

"I'm Lucas Scott."

"Peyton Sawyer."

"Nice to meet you." He nodded to the left, and they began moving down the hall. "So where'd you move from?"

"St. Flora."

"Oh, cool. What do you think of Tree Hill High so far?" Lucas barely cared about the looks they were getting now. He was just grateful to talk about something else, anything else, and to someone who didn't treat him like a dying patient.

Peyton hesitated. "Um, it's alright. I think it's kind of a…weird time to start."

He looked momentarily confused, then a dark cloud seemed to pass over his face. "Oh. So you heard about the, uh, accident."

Peyton nodded uncomfortably. "Yeah…"

Lucas shook it off, forcing a lighter tone, "People are usually more friendly. It'll pick up." He smiled down at her, and she returned it shyly.

He stopped walking abruptly, indicating the door they were standing next to. "Mr. Serrat's classroom."

Peyton couldn't help but feel a small stab of disappointment. "Thanks a lot, Lucas."

He smiled endearingly. "No problem. It was nice to meet you, Peyton." He started to walk off. "I'll be seein' ya."

She watched him, a pleasant kind of warmth spreading inside of her body. "Hope so."

She turned and walked into her classroom, but was barely inside the door when someone grabbed her shoulder and jerked her around.

Peyton found herself staring at two of the cheerleaders from her earlier classes, one blonde and one brunette. Both were glaring at her.

The brunette, the same girl who had snapped at her about sitting in Brooke's seat, snapped, "Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?"

"Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis had been dating since _tenth grade_. So _don't_ even think about it. Or you'll wish you hadn't."


	2. For Me This is Heaven

_Chapter Two_

_For Me This is Heaven_

_The first star I see may not be a star.  
We can't do a thing but wait.  
So let's wait for one more.  
The time such clumsy time in deciding if it's time.  
I'm careful but not sure how it goes.  
You can lose yourself in your courage._

Jimmy Eat World

Peyton spent the remainder of class sitting in abject horror. She couldn't wait to get out of this school.

The one person to be at all friendly to her all day, and he had to have been Brooke Davis' boyfriend. Of _course._

She felt like an idiot, mentally churning their conversation over in her head, trying to recall any indicators.

When the bell rang, she walked quickly down the hallway, barely pausing long enough to grab her books from her locker. She didn't want to see him again.

Her car was still being repaired from the accident, so Peyton had taken the bus in that morning. Now, though, she felt the need to clear her head for awhile, so she began to walk.

It wasn't until she was a good distance from the school that Peyton's heart rate returned to normal .

Peyton wasn't sure why she felt so panicked. It wasn't as though she ever had to hang out with Lucas Scott again. He had showed her to one class, only because it was on his way and because he was clearly a nice guy. They would probably never speak again, and when the truth came out about her connection to the accident, Lucas Scott would vaguely remember her as the girl he'd had a minute long conversation with on her first day of school.

But the truth was, that was the problem. Something about Lucas Scott made her want to know him. She had felt it when she'd first glimpsed him outside during lunch, and again, even stronger, when their eyes had found each other across the hallway.

Lucas Scott was someone she wanted to know. He was someone she could definitely like.

Of course, the chances of that happening were zero. It was bad enough that his girlfriend had _just_ died; add the fact that Peyton had been driving the car that killed her…she might as well forget it.

She would count herself lucky if she got by without him actively hating her.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas had basketball practice after school; the game had been his saving grace for the past week. Whitey and his teammates were just like everyone else, of course; giving him space, but always watching him carefully. Still, when he was on the court, everything was normal.

He'd been playing better than ever since The Accident, attacking each play with an intensity and fervor that he usually on had on important game nights.

Today, however, was an exception. He was distracted, his passes and shots sloppy and weakly executed. After about half an hour of this, Whitey called him over, a concerned expression on his face.

"You alright, son?"

Lucas nodded quickly. "I'm fine, coach."

Whitey gave his shoulder a squeeze, and Lucas' stomach twisted guiltily. Whitey obviously thought he was thinking about Brooke, but the truth was, it was Peyton who was distracting him.

At first, Lucas tried to tell himself it was simply because he enjoyed talking to someone who didn't know, who didn't look at him pityingly and who didn't talk to him in that lilted, sympathetic voice.

But the truth was, it was more than that. He wasn't ready, really, to put a name on what he was feeling; he only knew he wanted to see her again, that he _had_ to see her again.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Larry Sawyer was in the kitchen when his daughter got home. He gave her an expectant smile. "So. How was it?"

Peyton shrugged. "Not awful. I never saw the other driver, that Rachel girl, so I don't think anyone knows."

Larry sighed. "Honey, even if they did know, it won't matter. You didn't do anything wrong. She ran a red light…it wasn't your fault."

Silently, Peyton added to herself, _I bet her boyfriend won't see it that way._ Instead, she said, "Dad? Weren't you supposed to be gone like two days ago?"

Smiling, Larry answered, "Yep. But they can wait a few more days, honey. I want to make sure you're…settled before I go."

Peyton sighed. "You don't have to do that, Dad."

"I know. But I'm going to anyway." He opened up a cupboard at random. "Plus, I think it would be fatherly of me to buy some actual food for this house before I leave you alone in it."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas went to his mom's café after practice. He grinned at her in greeting, "Hey."

Karen seemed surprised by his obviously cheerful demeanor. "Hey, Luke. Good day?"

"Pretty good, yeah. How was yours?"

Karen didn't answer. Instead she leaned forward from across the counter, gently tousling her son's hair. "What's got you smiling?"

Lucas' smile instantly faded. The careful tone of his mom's voice reminded him that he wasn't supposed to be happy. He felt another stab of guilt. "Nothing really…just a good practice."

"Well, it's good to see you smile."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Peyton was pretty sure she would be sick if she had to eat another piece of pizza. Between delivery and the frozen pizzas in the freezer, incidentally the only food they did have in the house, for the past week and a half, she was sick of them.

Her father, however, was a different story. He was heating up Pizza Hut leftovers for his dinner when Peyton came downstairs. Seeing the pizza, she made a face.

"What?" Larry asked with a grin. "I distinctly remember you saying you could live on pizza."

"I retract the statement."

"Fine. I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow. Until then…" He tossed Peyton his car keys. "Take my car and find you something for dinner. You should get to know the area a little more, there's a bunch of places downtown…"

After a moment's hesitation, Peyton agreed. "Okay. I'm off to forage for food."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas was sitting at a booth, doing homework, when she walked in. He glanced up at the tinkling of the bell that indicated the door being opened, and his face instantly split into a smile.

"Peyton?"

She turned, surprised. Awkwardly, she walked a little closer to his table, smiling back. "Hey."

There was something forced in her both her smile and her tone. After a second, Lucas recognized it, and his smile dropped. "You know, don't you?"

"Know what?"

He gave her a look that seemed to say _Be honest with me_. It seemed to suggest, somehow, that they knew each other far better than they did. "You know I was her boyfriend. Brooke's."

Peyton nodded slowly. "How could you tell?"

A bitter laugh escaped. "I've pretty much figured out how to recognize it." He rubbed his face tiredly with his hands, a groan escaping. "Damn it…"

Still hovering awkwardly by his booth, she began to stammer nervously, "Was…was I not supposed to know? These…these girls told me, today in fifth period…"

Lucas shook his head. "It's not that…it's just…" He laughed wryly. "It was nice, today. Talking to someone who didn't know, who didn't…_look_ at me like that, who didn't want to analyze every detail of what happened…it probably sounds stupid."

Peyton watched him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "No, I get it-"

Lucas cut her off, "You can sit down, you know?"

She slid into the booth across from him. "I get it. When something like this happens…it becomes the focus of everything. It's all people want to talk about, and even when they're not you can tell it's what they're thinking…and it starts to feel like it defines you. Then you _really_ can't get past it."

"_Exactly_!" His voice was louder than he'd meant for it to be. "That's exactly how it feels, and I just…I hate it."

After a beat of silence, Peyton leaned forward and smiled. "Well, I have an idea then. How about we have a whole conversation that doesn't mention it? Like, at all?"

Lucas pretended to think it over. "I'd say that sounds like exactly what I need." He grinned. "First thing's first…service is unbelievably slow at the moment. What do you want to drink?"

Slightly bewildered by this sudden change in conversation, Peyton answered, "Um, just a coke I guess. What-"

Before she could ask, Lucas had stood up and moved behind the counter. He returned moments later with two cans of Coke, which he presented to Peyton with great flourish. "For you, m'lady."

Peyton gaped at him. "Did…did you just-?"

"Steal those for you? Yeah, I did."

He kept a straight face for only a few seconds before Peyton's look of complete confusion made him burst out laughing. "My mom owns this place."

Peyton groaned, flicking a straw paper at him.

This seemed to make Lucas laugh even harder. "Had you going…"

Peyton shook her head, laughing herself by now. "Kinda."

"Anyway, you want dinner and everything? It's on the house…I'll steal the rest of it for you."

Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, Peyton protests, "You don't have to do that."

Lucas shrugged, saying teasingly, "I know I don't _have _to…it's more about the rush I get from living outside the law." Peyton raised her eyebrows at him, and he said seriously, "It's no big deal. Think of it as a combination Welcome to Tree Hill slash Thanks for This Awesome Conversational Idea meal."

Soon, Peyton had her food and she and Lucas were talking easily. She was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him. It felt as though they'd known each other for years; he seemed to be able to interpret every look or other nonverbal gesture she made, and vice versa, understanding exactly what the other meant as though they were a couple who had long since figured out the others nuances.

"I like your mom's place, Luke. This burger's incredible…" She paused, then asked, "Sorry, is it just Lucas?"

He shrugged. "Lucas, Luke, whatever. I don't care."

"How can you not care, it's your _name_!"

"Most people just alternate it." He grinned. "If you'd like, I can provide with a detailed list of situations and what to call me in each one."

"Okay, that sounds really helpful. An example, please?"

He nodded , "Sure. When you are completely impressed with my basketball skills and feel the need to yell praises, you would use 'Lucas'. But when you're completely impressed with my incredible intelligence in a conversation and feel the need to praise me, you'd use 'Luke'."

Peyton bit back a smile to retort sarcastically, "What about when I'm annoyed with you for being arrogant?"

He pretended to consider it. "That would definitely be a full name situation."

"Well, what's your middle name?"

Lucas laughed a little. "I usually don't reveal that to people I just met."

She shrugged. "If you want this list to be thorough…."

Smiling, Lucas leaned forward and, in a conspiratorial whisper, admitted, "Eugene."

Peyton laughed. "It suits you."

"Gee, thanks. What yours?"

"Elizabeth."

He offered his hand for a high five. "Both E's!"

She laughingly slapped her palm against his. "What are the chances?"

"I guess like one in twenty-six." Lucas suddenly glanced over the doorway, which had just opened.

The girl who came in seemed vaguely familiar to Peyton. She was carrying a large "Ravens Cheerleading" duffel bag, but she wasn't one of the girls who had informed Peyton to 'not even think' about Lucas; after a moment, Peyton recognized her as the girl Lucas had been sitting with at lunch time.

The girl glanced over at them, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Luke waved at her, "Hey, Hales."

She walked over to their table. "Hi." She looked back and forth between the two of them, then turned to Lucas, clearly needing an explanation.

"Oh, sorry, Hales, this is Peyton. She's new at school…Peyton, this is Haley."

Peyton smiled uncomfortably. "Hi."

Haley nodded a little, the expression on her face not exactly unfriendly, just a little perplexed. "You're in my first period."

Peyton had a sudden flash of the crowd of accusing eyes that had turned on her when she'd nearly sat In Brooke Davis' old chair. Haley had been sitting in the seat in front of Brooke's. Face reddening at the memory, Peyton nodded awkwardly, "Oh, yeah."

Haley turned to Lucas, eyebrows arched, "So. What are you guys up to?"

He shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed by the almost accusatory looks Haley was given him, with Peyton sitting right there. He met his best friend's eyes, trying to silently communicate that they would talk later. "Nothing really. Talking a little."

Thankfully, Haley seemed to get the message. "Cool. Well, I gotta go clock in. Nice to meet you, Peyton."

"You, too," she replied automatically, watching Haley walk behind the counter. She was suddenly embarrassed and uncomfortable, as though she wasn't supposed to be here.

Lucas cleared his throat, desperately hoping to move through the awkward moment, "Haley's great. She's my best friend…and my sister-in-law."

This last piece of information was distracted enough for Peyton to forget her discomfort. "Wait. How is she your sister-in-law?"

He grinned. "She's married to my brother?"

Peyton stared at him. "But she's _our_ age?!"

Lucas' grinned widened; he was clearly enjoying her shock. "Yeah. It's always been a little different for Nathan and Haley."

"And your parents were just okay with letting him get married?"

"He's actually my half-brother. I'm only a couple months older than him."

"Oh." He could see she was struggling to process this, so Lucas laughed a little.

"Okay, so you should probably hear this whole story…it's kinda crucial Tree Hill history." So he filled her in on his family history, than began telling her how everything had changed when he'd joined the school basketball team sophomore year.

Peyton listened, enthralled, and by the time she was brought up to speed (Nathan and Lucas good friends, Nathan and Haley married), she shook her head, amazed. "Damn. That's a hell of a lot of drama."

Lucas grinned. "All set in motion by me and my mad skills on the court."

She rolled her eyes, laughing. "So basketball's pretty big here, huh?"

He nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah. Our football team sucks, but Ravens basketball has always been great. The games are like a town social event."

Peyton nodded. "It was the opposite at my old school. Basketball was awful, but our football team won state last year. Those were the games everyone went to. Which sucked, because I hate watching football. Too slow. But I used to cheer, so…" She shrugged.

Lucas' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "_You_ cheered?"

"So?"

With an amused glance, he seemed to take in her black leather jacket, Jack's Mannequin T-shirt, and beat up Chucks. "You just don't seem the type."

She smiled a little. "Yeah, I got that a lot. And you haven't even seen my music collection yet."

"I'm intrigued."

"As you should be."

He grinned. "You should cheer here, then. If you liked it. It's much better to cheer for a basketball team. A _winning _one."

She shrugged, that choking feeling of discomfort returning. "It's the middle of the season…"

"Yeah, but new girls try out all the time. It's not all that strict. You don't wanna miss this season… We're winning state this year, definitely."

They smiled at each other for a moment , then Peyton said, "I should probably head home…"

"Oh…alright." Lucas was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. "I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow?"

Peyton stood, smiling. "Yeah. Are you sure you won't let me pay…"

"Completely positive." He smiled at her. "Thanks for hanging out with Peyton. It was great."

"I had fun."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Like clockwork, the minute Peyton was out the door, Haley was moving toward the booth and taking the seat she'd just vacated.

Lucas smiled, and said, in a conversational tone, "Hey, Hales. How goes it?"

Haley was clearly in no mood to play games. "What was that?"

He could already feel himself getting annoyed. "That was me having dinner with a new friend. Okay?"

"A _new friend_?! Luke, it's only been a week! Are you _kidding _me?"

"I know how long it's been Haley!" He snapped. "You honestly think I don't?! That I don't think about it every fucking minute? Excuse me for actually letting myself be relatively _happy_ for a few hours! God, what was I thinking?"

Blinking back tears, Haley retorted, "I just don't want you to do something stupid."

"I'm _not_!" Frustrated, he gritted his teeth and forced a calmer tone, "Look she…she just moved here, and we met today…and no one else even _talked _to her, and-"

"Well, yeah because everyone has more important things on our minds, Luke! Everyone except you, apparently."

"You know that isn't true!"

"Well, I just think it's a bit weird that _Rachel_ can't even bring herself to come back to school, yet _you_'re off making 'new friends' and having a great time!"

Furious, Lucas yelled, "Well, I'm not the one who went through a fucking red light at 70 miles an hour!" Lowering his voice, he asked, "What is your issue with me, Haley? I don't seem _sad_ enough?"

Haley stared at him for a long moment, then sighed shakily. "I…I'm sorry…it's just…one of my best friends died. Your _girlfriend _died and you've been shutting us out, and I've been worried and now…" She brushed stray tears away with the back of her hand.

Lucas sighed. "Hales, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at her. Peyton…she's just a friend, okay? She's really cool, Haley, you'd her. It was just nice to talk about stuff besides the accident…to feel normal ."

"I guess I get that."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

_Peyton was already trying to remember where she was supposed to turn to head back to the new house. She knew she had another couple of traffic lights to go, but she was never great at directions._

_She fiddled absently with her CD changer, switching from Travis to Dashboard Confessional without taking her eyes off the road, scanning the still unfamiliar surroundings. _

_The opening lines of 'Don't Wait' had just began to play when it happened._

_Her light was green, and she only noticed the other car, speeding through from her left, a split second before their paths collided. _

_She screamed, stepping on the brake. The squeal of the brakes filled her ears, following immediately by a slamming crash. Her stomach dropped as she jerked forward slightly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for it to be over._

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton woke up screaming. She lay in bed, disoriented and dizzy, her pulse racing. She closed her eyes, thankful she hadn't gotten further into the nightmare than that. The part that had come after was the worst.

She rolled over on her side. It wasn't a good idea, hanging out with Lucas. She knew that. It was just going to turn out badly. But she also knew she wasn't going to be able to make herself stay away from him.

She could tell he was one of those rare, genuinely good guys. He was funny, and sweet, and every time he smiled at her, something seemed to make her heart clutch. And she felt a connection to him that she'd never experienced before; like she'd known him her whole life.

She wanted to believe that maybe it could all be okay. That the red-headed girl didn't actually go to Tree Hill High, and that no one would find out

However, she knew she was kidding herself. This was a small town. It was only a matter of time.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Peyton passed another morning of mostly silence in school the next day. She and Haley glanced at each other in first period, forcing awkward smiles.

She looked for Lucas again at lunch, and was disappointed when she didn't see him anywhere. She did see Haley walking with the same dark haired guy from the day before who had to be Lucas' brother, Nathan.

When she walked into her fourth period class, Lucas was already there, sitting in his seat in the front row, next to the ominously empty desk. He looked up at her and smiled, "Hey, Peyton. I didn't know you were in here?"

She smiled back. "Yep. I was in the back yesterday."

He indicated the desk next to him. "You can sit here."

"Lucas!"

They both turned around. Bevin and Teresa, who sat in the row directly behind him, were given Lucas identical horrified looks. "That's _Brooke's _seat."

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Before Lucas could reply, Peyton moved away from the first row, murmuring nervously, "It's fine, I'll just go…"

Lucas sighed, frustrated, and turned away from the glares of Teresa and Bevin. Apparently, he wasn't grieving correctly. He couldn't honestly convince himself that Brooke would have cared deeply that her seat in history class, the seat she hadn't even wanted in the first place because it was in the dreaded front row, did not remain empty.

Once, a few minutes into class, he tried to glance back to catch Peyton's eye, but was met the accusatory looks from Bevin in Teresa, so he turned back around.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas waited around for her after class, his expression apologetic. "Sorry about that, y'know before…you really could've sat…"

"No, it's really okay. I mean…" She looked away briefly. "I get why they wouldn't want me to."

He shrugged. "Let's go."

They walked to their lockers together, and then on to their next class. To Lucas' relief, they easily managed to move past the awkward moment and regained the easy conversation that had defined the previous evening.

All it took was Lucas looking at her and saying, "So tell me a little more about this infamous music collection."

Instantly, Peyton's eyes lit up and they began to talk about bands. He found he liked watching her talk about music; she was clearly both passionate and knowledgeable about the bands and singers, something that both impressed and fascinated him.

He hung outside her classroom door, continuing their discussion until the warning bell rang.

Lucas sighed in mock-annoyance. "Guess I have to. Hey, are you doing anything tonight?"

She nearly laughed. "Who would I possibly be doing anything with?"

He smiled. "Great. Hang out with me."

Peyton smiled back, thrilled. "You didn't make that sound like I have much choice, but okay. What are we doing?"

"I'm going to show you some of the best places in Tree Hill. Where do you live?"

LPLPLPLPLP

On Lucas' car stereo, Jimmy Eat World played softly: _The first star I see may not be a star. We can't do a thing but wait, so let's wait for one more._

Peyton grinned teasingly at Lucas, "Did you put this CD in because we were talking about it earlier?"

"Psh. You offend me. I happen to own all the Jimmy Eat World albums."

"Good for you, but I didn't ask if you went out and bought it because of our conversation. I asked if that's why you happen to have it playing in your car."

Lucas grinned sheepishly. "Maybe."

She laughed. "Well, I'm glad. It's a great song." She leaned back in the seat, already relaxed. She had already picked up a pattern: whenever she was about to see Lucas, she would go into a major stress about what a bad idea it was, panicking that she would do or say the wrong thing. The minute she was with him, though, she seemed to forget she'd ever had a reason to panic.

They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the music.

_Can you still feel the butterflies? Can you still hear the last goodnight?_

After awhile, Peyton asked, "So where are we going, exactly?"

Lucas smiled mysteriously. "The best place in Tree Hill."

After a few minutes, they pulled to the side of a road, into the grass. Peyton got out of the car, staring out at the river behind them. Lucas reached into the backseat and picked up a basketball before getting out, and only then did she notice the concrete court.

"A basketball court?"

He grinned. "The River Court."

Peyton remembered the beginning of the story he'd told last night, about how he ended up on varsity. "This is where you used to play, right? It's where you had the one on one with Nathan."

"Yeah. I practically grew up here." He looked back at her, as though watching for her reaction. She smiled, and so did he.

Running out onto the court, Lucas tossed the basketball from one hand to the other. "You coming?"

Laughingly, Peyton ran after him.

He held out the ball to her, an eyebrow arched challengingly. "You play?"

Peyton rolled her eyes and scoffed, mock-cocky. "Do I _play?" _Smirking, she turned and sent the basketball turning through the air, missing the backboard by about three inches to the right.

"So that's a no?"

She grinned. "Yeah, I don't play." Laughing, Lucas ran after the ball. Peyton watched him, unable to suppress the smile on her face. "Let's see these moves you love bragging about so much."

"Watch and learn." He started behind the basket, dribbling in the opposite direction, moving out beyond the painted three point line before whirling and shooting a fade away.

It went through, a perfect swish. Lucas grinned at her. "Impressed?"

Peyton rolled her eyes.. "Okay, hot shot. Don't get cocky." She tossed the ball back to him. "Again."

For the next five minutes, Lucas shot and Peyton stood below the net and tossed him rebounds. After awhile, she said, "You know, I'm starting to get the feeling I'm not really needed for this part."

"Oh, no, you are." Lucas assured her. "I always play better when I'm being admired."

Peyton arched an eyebrow. "Who says I'm admiring you?"

He smiled smugly. "Oh, I can just tell." Then he laughed. "C'mere."

She obliged, meeting him at center court. They sat, legs stretched out, leaning back on their arms.

"So…" Lucas began hesitantly. "I realized last night…when I was talking about how suffocated I feel since Brooke died…you really _got _that. And at the time, I was so relieved to know that _someone_ understood I didn't think much about it…" He paused, his eyes on hers. "But ever since then I've been trying to figure out a tactful way to ask…_why_ you got it."

"So now you're asking?"

He nodded. "Not so tactful at all. And not at _all _subtle."

"That's okay." Peyton paused, then told him. "My mom died. When I was nine."

"Oh." Lucas inhaled sharply, and they were quiet for a moment, before he said softly, "How did she die?"

"Car accident." For some reason, she heard herself adding, "She ran a red light."

"Like Brooke. Well, Rachel ran the red light; she was the girl who was driving." Peyton looked away, as though the truth was somehow written on her face. "But…they said she wasn't wearing a seat belt.

Lucas waited until Peyton look up at him again. "I'm sorry about your mom."

"I'm sorry about Brooke."

He leaned back until he was completely laying down on the court, and he motioned for her to do the same.

They lay close together, looking up at the stars. Lucas reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPod. "Music?"

She nodded mutely as he handed her one of the earbuds. She was too aware of his closeness, the intimacy of the setting and the moment.

They lay in the center of the River Court for nearly an hour, listening to mellow, quiet music and staring at the sky, content to be quiet, content to revel in the contentment of the night, the unspoken excitement of their new friendship.


	3. Black Balloon

_**Hey guys, sorry for the delay…my hard drive crashed on my laptop, and I had to wait a few days for a loaner computer while it's being fixed. Major pain. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying this story…keep them coming!**_

_Chapter Three_

_Black Balloon_

_A thousand other boys could never reach you  
How could I have been the one  
I saw the world spin beneath you  
And scatter like ice from the spoon_

"Your turn."

"Okay, um…" Peyton thought for a moment, then said, "Alright, best injury story. Broken bones, stitches, whatever."

Lucas laughed. "Okay, I've got a good one. I was like six or seven, I think. And Haley and I had just watched Aladdin. So we decide we're going to do our own magic carpet type thing. My house is all hardwood floors, so we just got this blanket, and Haley sat on it and I dragged her around the house."

Peyton grinned, "Did you sing?"

"Nah, I don't sing. So anyway, after awhile of this, I tell Haley I want to ride, but she's probably not strong enough to pull me since she was a girl. Obviously, she was offended, so I got my turn to ride and she was pulling the blanket. I kept telling her she wasn't going fast enough, and I think she was getting pretty mad. So she's practically running, dragging me behind her on this blanket, and then we turn the corner from the hallway into the living room too fast, so that the blanket kind of whipped around, you know? So I hit the side of my head on the corner of the coffee table."

Peyton winced. "Ouch."

Laughing a little, Lucas continued, "Yeah, it hurt like hell. But I was trying to be very manly, with the whole 'didn't hurt' attitude…but Haley was staring at me with this completely horrified expression, and then I felt blood, _pouring_ down the side of my face, and that's when I lost it. Screamed bloody murder until my mom came in. Eight stitches."

"Nice."

"Your turn."

"At my old elementary school they had this awesome metal slide. Really tall, with a spiral staircase up to the top. The teachers were all really strict about it, making sure one kid went at a time, that everyone went feet first, sitting up, all that. It was right next to the bench where the teachers sat, too, so it wasn't like anyone could break the rules."

Lucas turned on his side to grin at her. "I see where this is going. Little Peyton just had to be rebellious, huh?'

She smiled, continuing, "This one day, some kid from one of the PE classes got hurt playing kickball or something. And all the teachers on the playground got off the bench and ran over to help, so no one was watching the slide…when I was next in line. And Sam Welling, who was _the_ stud of second grade, dared me to go down headfirst. So I did."

"Naturally."

"The thing is, I didn't think about the whole area at the end of the slide was a hole, so that when kids landed their feet didn't just crash into the ground or whatever. So when I got the end, it kind of pitched me forward, and I had my hands out to catch myself, and my wrist just _snapped_. So gross."

"Excellent. So we were both dare devils as kids."

Peyton made a face. "Don't know about that, Luke. I broke the rules to perform a death defying act on a slide. You were being pulled around on a fake magic carpet."

He arched an eyebrow. "Your point?"

"Just that I was maybe a little more hardcore."

"Oh, whatever, you just did it to impress some guy. _Sam Welling_."

Peyton laughed. "You know you would've been impressed."

Grudgingly, Lucas admitted, "Maybe a little."

"Your turn," she reminded him.

It was a Tuesday night, just over a week since they'd met. They were lying on a blanket in the grass by the River Court (after the first night, Peyton had taken issue with the discomfort of the hard blacktop), something that had become an unofficial routine.

This particular game had begun two nights prior, when Lucas had joked, during a detailed round of Desert Island, that they needed to get to know each other.

Lucas didn't hesitate; he'd come up with several topics in advance, unlike Peyton, who seemed to have no trouble inventing them on the spot. "If you were getting a tattoo, where would you get it, and what would it be?"

Peyton was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm not really sure. When I was ninth grade, I was in this big Beatles stage, and I used to want to get 'Let It Be' tattooed right here…" She pointed just beneath her right wrist. "Not too big. Now, I'm not sure…my mom's initials, maybe? Or some other lyric. But my favorite song changes so often there's no way I could choose."

"But definitely on the wrist?"

"Probably. Not that I think I'd ever do it, because I _hate_ needles, but if I did, yeah. Or maybe the ankle. I'm really not into the whole tramp stamp thing for girls. That's like when guys get something on their biceps. Kind of lame. How about you?"

Lucas blinked at her for a second, then burst out laughing. Peyton turned her head to look at him, confused. "_What_? Why is that funny?"

Still laughing, Lucas sat up, took off his jacket, and lifted up his sleeve.

Peyton stared at the tattoo on Lucas' bicep, and was torn between embarrassment and amusement. She met his eyes, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smile, and said simply, "Whoops."

Lucas sighed heavily and flopped back down on his back, his laughter vanishing in favor of mock-despair. "So you think I'm lame."

Still trying not to laugh, Peyton protested, "No, no, definitely not. And Chinese symbols aren't at all cliché or overdone."

Lucas gave her a wounded look. "God, girlie, anything else you want to attack?"

"C'mon, I love it. Really. What does it mean?"

Lucas grinned sheepishly. "Um…_fun_."

Peyton couldn't help it; she burst out laughing. "Well, at least it's meaningful," she teased sarcastically.

He smiled a little. "Yeah, not my smartest decision. I got it on my first date with Brooke, in tenth grade..."

"Oh." Peyton's laughter ceased immediately, her stomach knotting as it always did on the rare occasions Lucas mentioned Brooke. She propped herself on one elbow to look at him, reproachful. "I didn't mean anything by that…you know, that it wasn't meaningful-"

Seeing the guilty look on her face, Lucas hastened to assure her, "Hey, I know. It's okay…you're right actually." He smiled. "Alcohol definitely played a role in that decision. Brooke already had the same one, in a slightly, um, different area…"

Peyton's eyebrows knit in uncertainty. "Wait. Brooke _Davis_ had a tattoo? In _tenth _grade?"

Confused, Lucas nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Peyton shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, I guess I just thought…reading the articles and everything…I just had this idea she was some kind of…saint."

Lucas stared at her for a second or two, then laughed. "Are you serious? Brooke wasn't a saint…she'd have _hated_ that." He took in Peyton's look of genuine confusion, and he sat up to. "She was a party girl. She…she had been the most popular girl in school since we were sixth graders, and she was used to it, and she played the part." He frowned a little. "When people die…they turn them into perfect people. Saints. And that's not _honest_. Yeah, Brooke was pretty and popular and she had an amazing heart…but she could also be ditzy and spoiled and she had a wild side. And that's okay, because that was _Brooke_. She was a _real_ person, not some portrait of a prom queen_. _But that's how everyone talks about her now. And that's not _honest_."

Peyton couldn't look at him. She stared straight down, one hand unconsciously clutching the blanket beneath them. She felt a sudden flash of anger at herself, not only for not telling Lucas the truth, for taking Brooke away from him, but for being jealous of a dead girl.

Lucas sighed. "I don't know why it matters."

"Lucas, I'm sorry," The words slipped out unchecked.

Lucas looked over at her, his expression softening. "What for?"

Peyton shrugged, making herself look him in the eye. "I don't know. For everything. That you're having to go through this."

"It's okay." He opened his mouth to say something else, but guilt made the words stick in his throat. He wanted to tell her that _she_ made it okay, that in such a short time, she had filled his thoughts and his heart so all of the guilt and pain and confusion felt far away. But he couldn't say that; that wasn't how the Grieving Boyfriend was supposed to be talking.

Instead, he gave her a soft, almost shy smile, and briefly slipped his hand into hers and squeezed gently. It was crazy, but he thought that just maybe he and Peyton didn't need words, that maybe she could understand what he meant without them.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Haley James Scott sat on the bleachers in the gym with the other cheerleaders, repacking her gym bag. Just a few weeks ago, this part of the day (just after practice ended) would be full of chatting and giggling and gossip, discussions of upcoming parties and recently ended relationships.

Since the accident, however, the cheerleaders had been unusually somber. The absence of Brooke, not to mention to continuing absence of Rachel, hung over them like a fog, and even now their routines were executed half-heartedly at best.

Haley especially was looking forward to the end of the season. She had only joined the cheerleading squad last year because Brooke asked her to, and while she was now friends with all the girls, she couldn't help feeling that they were being wary about what they said in front of her.

It wasn't tough to figure out why. The big topic of conversation for the past week and had been Lucas and 'that new girl'. Every time Haley had seen Lucas lately, he'd been with Peyton; walking in the hallways, going to lunch. She could assume they were hanging out outside of school as well.

A few weeks ago, Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott were the Golden Couple of Tree Hill High. Only two weeks following her death, appearances seemed to suggest that not only was Lucas fine, but he was moving on.

Brooke's friends in particular were disgusted by the display. They gave Lucas death glares every chance they got, and ignored Peyton completely. Haley could figure that the other cheerleaders weren't sure if her loyalties were with Lucas at this point, which was why she wasn't included in any of the discussions.

Today, however, there was a change. From the bleachers, Haley saw Bevin, Teresa and a couple of the others gathered by the doors, occasionally throwing glances her way. After a few minutes of this, Bevin and Teresa came over and sat down in front of her.

"Hales, is Lucas _dating_ that new girl?" Teresa asked without preamble.

Haley stared at them for a moment, then answered carefully, "No. As far as I know they're just friends."

Teresa and Bevin exchanged a look, and Haley felt herself getting annoyed. Then, Bevin leaned forward and said, "Becky said she saw them coming out of the movies last weekend."

Haley shrugged. "Yeah, I think they've been hanging out some."

Teresa made a skeptical sound. "You think they're just _hanging out_? Don't you think it's weird, Hales? I mean…Brooke…" She paused, then said quickly, "Well it _just_ happened."

Uncomfortable, Haley shrugged again. "Yeah, I guess it is….strange. But you know, I think he just likes the newness of it…the fact that Peyton didn't know Brooke, doesn't want to talk about her all the time. I guess it's helping."

Another look was exchanged, then Bevin said, "Does that girl know _about_ Brooke, though?"

That was something Haley had managed to ask Lucas one of the few times she'd seen him alone. "Yeah, she knows."

Teresa groaned a little. "God, then why is she throwing herself at him like that? What kind of person _does_ that?"

"It's not really her fault…" Haley said half-heartedly.

"Check it out…" Teresa nodded toward the other half of the gym, where basketball practice had just been dismissed.

Peyton had just walked into the gym, and Lucas, catching her eye, instantly smiled and went over to her. Most of the other players shot them glances, then looked at each other.

"What a bitch." Teresa muttered under her breath.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas jogged over to Peyton. "Hey, you."

"Hey yourself. Practice good?"

Lucas nodded. "Decent, yeah. Just give me a second to change and we'll go."

"Cool." Peyton sat on the first row of the bleachers, letting her eyes wander to the other side of the gym, where most of the cheerleaders were still hanging around.

They were looking in her direction, as well, and it wasn't much of a stretch for Peyton to assume they were talking about her. She was hyper aware of the hostile attitude many of the students had been directing towards her in the past week, as well as the looks she and Lucas got every time they were together.

She never brought it up, though, because Lucas never gave any indication whatsoever that he noticed.

Lucas emerged from the locker room quickly, and he followed her gaze. "I meant what I said, you know. You should join. Try out, I mean. How cool would that be?"

"I don't know, Luke."

"C'mon, it'd be good. You should get involved."

Peyton rolled her eyes, trying to turn it into a joke. "You sound like a guidance counselor."

Lucas grinned, "Then let me guide you. I could talk to Haley if you want."

Hesitating, Peyton glanced again at the cheerleaders, who had finally stopped watching them and seemed to be dispersing. "Really?"

"Yeah! She wouldn't mind, and I bet she could get you in."

Something about Lucas' smile made her feel strangely optimistic. Maybe this was what she needed. She could get to know some of the girls, which would be nice; she loved hanging out with Lucas, but the four classes they didn't have together were strangely lonely.

"Okay, yeah. Why not?"

LPLPLPLPLPLP

It was Haley's night to close at the café, and just as she was about to leave, Lucas came in.

Haley's eyebrows shot up. "Hey, stranger."

"Hi." He took his usual stool, and Haley remained behind the counter, just in front of him. "What's up?"

"Nothing. It was a slow night."

He nodded, and silence fell for a moment, then they spoke at the same time.

"I have a question."

"I need a favor."

They laughed, and Lucas waved a hand. "You first."

"Okay…" Haley paused, then blurted out, "Are you dating Peyton?"

"Oh." He exhaled slowly, then said, "No. We aren't dating."

Haley peered at him. "Okay, Luke, but there's a 'but' in there…"

Lucas didn't dispute this, continuing, "_But_ I wouldn't be…opposed to it."

Haley groaned and gave him a Look. "You wouldn't be _opposed_ to it?" She repeated in a tone that bordered on mocking.

"Fine, I might…potentially, one day…_want_ to." Haley looked away from him. "Look, Hales, I know it sounds _awful_, okay? I know it seems crazy but…it's _different_ with Peyton. I don't know how else to explain, except that we're _supposed_ to be together, I can _feel_ it. I-I know the timing sucks-"

"I'll say the timing sucks! Lucas, this isn't another one of you and Brooke's infamous 'breaks', okay? She's _gone_, she _died_…two weeks ago!"

He shook his head. "You don't get it. I didn't choose this, it just…happened. I can't help how I feel about her."

Haley tiredly rubbed her hands over her face, then said quietly, "_Fine_. What was your favor?"

Lucas groaned a little. "I don't know if I even want to ask now…"

"No, Luke, I'm sorry, okay? Go ahead, what do you need?"

"I was just…I was hoping you would talk to the other cheerleaders."

"About what?"

"Peyton used to cheer at her old school, and she hasn't really met that many people here, so I was thinking it would be a cool thing if she-"

Haley interjected, "Lucas, stop. I see where this is going, and I find it hard to believe you think it's actually a good idea."

Frustrated, he shot back, "Why _not_?"

"Because maybe you've somehow failed to notice, but everyone at school is talking about you and Peyton. No one's exactly thrilled with what you're doing, least of all the other cheerleaders. Why do you think Peyton _hasn't met many people?_ The way they see it, you're using her to replace Brooke. And unlike you, they don't _want_ to replace Brooke!"

"It's not like that, okay?! She's not replacing Brooke, she's so completely _different_ from Brooke." He sighed, trying to force a tone of calm. "Hales. Please? I want them to be nicer to her, stop talking _about_ her and try talking _to _her. Because she's a really good person, and none of this is her fault. They'll listen to you."

"I don't know, Lucas-"

"_Please_?" He begged. "Just talk to them. Maybe tell them to ease up a little, see if they'll give her a chance."

After a long moment, Haley reluctantly agreed, "Fine. I'll _try_. But don't get your hopes up, okay?"

LPLPLPLPLPLP

It was weird to think that just over a week ago, Peyton had no idea Lucas Scott existed. And now, it was as though their existence was intricately intertwined. She missed him after only a few hours without his company. She thought about him constantly. And she was terrified of any moment coming that would push him out of her life forever.

She had to tell him.

It was pretty simple, really. Her father had told her, when she was about to start school and had been freaking out about it, that she no one had to know. She hadn't been at fault, but if she was truly worried about it, no one had to know. She had assumed by now that Rachel would be there to reveal the truth. Still, Peyton had never planned on doing it herself.

But Lucas was different. He needed to know. He _deserved_ that information, so he could make the decision for himself whether or not to keep her in his life.

Peyton had a sinking sensation, though, that she knew what decision he would make. Whether it had been her fault or not was inconsequential; it would be too weird, too bizarre, too much of a betrayal to Brooke.

And even if they could somehow stay friends, if Lucas was really _that_ great of a guy, it would change everything.

Besides, if Peyton was honest with herself, she had to admit that friendship was not exactly her long term plan with Lucas Scott.

She was falling for him. Hard. She had been since she first saw him at lunch her first day of school, and it was incredible to think that she hadn't known him only two weeks ago.

There were times when Peyton thought maybe what they had was enough. The easy, connected friendship that had formed so effortlessly; she was content to just be with him, whether it was the three hour long non-stop conversations or the companionable silences.

However, there were other times when she couldn't shake the ache and longing for something more. She wasn't a fool; that would take time. In spite of what the rest of Tree Hill High seemed to suspect, Lucas had never expressed any romantic intentions. The shadow of Brooke Davis still hovered, sneaking into conversations at points.

And that was what terrified Peyton about telling him the truth. When her connection to Brooke's accident was revealed, even if Lucas forgave her…that shadow would _always _be there, and their chances of being together the way Peyton wanted would be gone.

LPLPLPLPLP

"I don't understand your organizing system," Lucas commented after about five minutes of studying Peyton's extensive record collection. "I mean…parts seem like alphabetical order, but then something throws it off…"

Peyton glanced up; she was laying on her bed, drawing. She sighed, exasperated. "They _are_ alphabetical. But it's within the other categories…they're organized by genre, and sub-genre, and alphabetized within those."

Lucas raised his eyebrows. "That's intense. You're probably the only one who can find anything."

Peyton smiled smugly. "I know."

He suddenly flopped onto the bed, next to her. "You about done with my portrait?"

She grinned. "Yes."

She pushed the sketchbook at him. Lucas looked down at the page, and instantly had to quell the urge to laugh.

Peyton had drawn cartoon-style Lucas sitting with an extremely smug expression on his face. In one hand he held an open copy of _Catcher in the Rye_, which he appeared to be reading. He was using his other hand to spin a basketball on the tip of one finger. The speech bubble had him saying "I'm the master. Watch and learn."

Lucas looked up at her. "Not _exactly_ what I had in mind."

Peyton smiled sweetly. "You should have been more specific."

He laughed. Lucas had discovered Peyton's artistic abilities several days before, the first time he'd been to her house. He had spent most of that visit looking at the drawings that were on display, enthralled.

The following day, in history class (they had recently solved the problem of the empty seat; Lucas had simply sat in it himself, practically forcing Peyton to take his old seat next to it), he'd glanced over during a particularly boring part of the lecture, and noticed Peyton doodling.

He had passed her a note. _Pretty sure this isn't art class, girlie…tsk tsk. _

Peyton had grinned and written back. _I'm fully on task. I'm drawing Paul Revere, riding his horse to alert to Americans._

Barely suppressing a laugh, Lucas quickly replied, _Um, we're studying the CIVIL war. _

_So I'm drawing Lincoln. Whatever._

_Lame. You need better subjects._

_Such as?_

Lucas had thought, then wrote quickly. _Draw me. _

Unfolding the note, Peyton's cheeks reddened slightly. She _had _drawn Lucas. Several times, actually; she'd drawn them together, lying on the River Court, connected by the headphones from his iPod. She'd drawn him the way she remembered him from the first moment, outside at the tables. She'd drawn them meeting eyes from across the hallway, the word **connection** written underneath. And she had drawn the angry, hurt expression that he wore when he'd been talking about Brooke, and the way people remembered her.

Still, she had agreed, and had drawn the funny drawing for him. She was pleased with his obviously amused reaction.

"I think it captures you," She told him.

"Gee, thanks."

She carefully tore it from the sketchbook and presented it to him. "All yours."

"A Peyton Sawyer original." He grinned. "I'm honored."

"As you should be," she replied lightly.

They were quiet for a few moments, then Lucas said, "Oh, hey, I talked to Hales yesterday."

Peyton looked at him expectantly. "About…?"

"Talking to the cheerleading squad, about getting you a try-out. She said she'd do it."

Peyton stared, genuinely surprised. Haley herself had never been unfriendly to her, but Peyton knew how the other cheerleaders felt a high level of resentment toward her since she'd been hanging around with Lucas. She had assumed Haley would just tell Lucas it wasn't a good idea.

"Oh. Cool. That's nice of her."

He nodded. "Yeah, hopefully it'll work out."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas had only one class, second period Calculus, with both Haley and Nathan. As soon as they entered the classroom, Haley came up to his desk.

"Hey, Luke, I talked to the girls about Peyton…you might as well forget about it."

He stared. "What? _Why_? What did they say?"

Haley sighed, taking her seat next to him, "Luke, I already told you it wouldn't go over well. They laughed in my face."

Lucas gritted his teeth in annoyance, muttering, "I don't get them…"

"I told you they think you're using her to replace Brooke. If they put her on the squad, _they'd _be using her to replace Brooke."

"Did you do what I said? Tell them to ease up?"

Haley sighed tiredly and shot Nathan a significant look before answering, "I told them that you weren't dating. Just friends. I didn't mention that you _like her_." He could tell from her tone that Haley still wasn't happy with that bit of information, but he let it go. "They don't want to hear it. Sorry. Besides, Rachel's coming back next week."

"Since when?"

"I just found out from Bevin. So we really have to run things by her, and you know she won't let her. Peyton can't cheer, Luke. It was never going to work."

"Damn."

"Why do you care so much if she cheers anyway?"

Sighing, Lucas answered, "It's not about her cheering, it's about…I've accidentally turned her into some kind of permanent outcast."

Speaking for the first time, Nathan put in, "Come on, man, you said you were the only one who talked to her on her first day."

"Yeah, because the accident had _just_ happened. It may have taken some time, but she would have eventually met people. Now everyone resents her…and it's because of me."

LPLPLPLPLP

"_Slut_."

Peyton tensed instantly. She knew the insult, muttered in an undertone, was directed at her; this was a not uncommon occurrence lately.

Then, something different happened. She heard an unfamiliar voice, a guys, counter the insult in a sharp tone, "Lay off, Becky."

Peyton glanced over in spite of herself. The original speaker was one of the cheerleaders, a blonde girl she knew by sight. The second speaker, who was now being glared at by the retreating "Becky", was Lucas' brother.

He smiled apologetically at her. "Hey. Sorry about that…I'm Nathan, Lucas'-"

"-brother," she finished for him. "Yeah, I know. Hi, I'm Peyton."

He grinned a little. "I know. And you've met my wife, too, I heard, so I thought I'd introduce myself." After a quick pause, he added, "Look, I doubt all that will last too much longer. With the cheerleaders and everyone."

"Thanks."

He nodded. "Well, I gotta get to class. It was nice to meet you, Peyton."

"You, too. And thanks."

"No problem." He had only gone a couple steps before he turned around and said, "For the record…I think you've been really good for Lucas lately. Probably exactly what he needs." He grinned, then turned and walked away.

LPLPLPLPLP

She was waiting for Lucas just before lunchtime when Teresa came up to her, followed, as usual, by Bevin. Teresa smirked at Peyton. "So I hear you want to cheer."

Peyton frowned a little, taken aback by the uncommonly confrontational approach; she generally just received the muttered insults. "Um…"

"How stupid _are_ you, anyway? Did you really think we'd let _you_ on?"

Peyton sighed, not wanting to waste her time with this. "Honestly, no. Luke just told Haley-"

Teresa's expression became absolutely poisonous. "Don't _even_ talk as though you _know_ Lucas Scott. Because you don't, you just met him. Why do you think he _wants_ you to cheer, anyway?"

Peyton rolled her eyes. "I'm done with this. Go back to talking _behind _my back, okay? At least we didn't have to speak…"

Teresa ignored her, "It's classic. His girlfriend, his girlfriend of almost _two years_ died, and he meet you and immediately wants you to become a cheerleader? Like _her_?"

Bevin smiled haughtily, "It's cuz he knows there's an open spot now."

Teresa rolled her eyes and groaned. "_No_. It's because he's trying to turn _you _into _Brooke_." She looked Peyton up and down, distastefully. "Although I can't see why he's bothering…lost cause."

She and Bevin walked away.

With flawless timing, Lucas found her appeared as soon as they were out of sight. He waved from down the hallway, and Peyton numbly returned it.

As soon as he was close enough, he smiled in greeting, "Hey, blondie."

"Hi," she replied quietly.

His brow instantly furrowed in concern. "Peyt, you okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, fine. Let's go get food."

They were silent for most of the walk to the cafeteria, then Lucas hesitantly began, "Listen…I talked to Haley. She said…she said the cheerleading thing probably won't work out…something about them not wanting to take on someone new so late or whatever…"

Distractedly, Peyton just shrugged. "That's alright."

He sighed. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not a big deal."

His annoyance and disappointment from before stirring up again, Lucas replied with more vehemence, "Yeah, it is. It's really not fair, I mean…I _know_ they've let new girls try out mid season before, hell, _Haley _just joined last year at this time…if you want to cheer, they should at least let you _try out_…"

Peyton abruptly started walking to face him. "Luke, why do you want me to cheer so much?"

Lucas' face reddened a little; he had been too embarrassed and guilty to acknowledge the way the others had been treating Peyton, to apologize for the fact that it was all his fault. He didn't want to admit he'd been hoping to correct this. So instead, he simply stammered, "Um…I just thought you'd like it."

Peyton's throat tightened, and she looked away from him for a minute, saying in a quiet voice, "So it is has nothing to do with the fact that _Brooke _cheered?"

Bewildered, Lucas stared at her, "What? You really think that?"

"I don't know, maybe! You have seemed _really_ set on getting me to join. What's next, you want me to dye my hair brown?"

"Peyton, come on-"

She backed up a little. "I _can't _be Brooke Davis, okay, Luke? Everyone else in this damn school is making the perfectly clear that they know I'm not, and they don't even want me here because of it! Maybe you should start listening to them." She paused, tears unexpectedly stinging her eyes. "I have to go…to the library. I'll see you."

She walked off before he could say anything else.

LPLPLPLPLP

That night, Peyton lay alone on her bed, listening to the silence of the house; her father had finally left for his assignment, at the end of her first week at school.

She was thinking about what she'd said to Lucas today. Part of her had been genuinely rattled by what Teresa had said; she'd wondered about Lucas' insistence on getting Haley to talk to the cheerleaders, and this theory had seemed to provide an explanation.

Another, deeper part of her could not believe it. That part seemed to inherently know that the connection she and Lucas had, the way Lucas looked at her, was unlike anyone else's, including Brooke Davis'.

If she was listening to that part, then the only explanation for her behavior toward him was that she was pushing him away, before he could discover her secret and push _her_ away himself.

There was a rapid succession of knocking, and Peyton jumped. She turned on her side, and saw Lucas standing in her doorway, looking serious.

She didn't say anything; for a long moment they merely looked at each other. Then he opened his mouth and said slowly, "I don't want you to be Brooke. I just want you to be you."

Her eyes instantly filled with tears, and she sat up. "Lucas…"

He stepped into her bedroom a little more. "The real reason I wanted you to join the cheerleading squad…is because I wanted you to meet people. I wanted them to be nicer to you. Because you're a great person, and I know that they would've been. I know _everyone _would have liked you, but because of me…they don't even want to try. And I'm sorry about that, and I just wanted to make it okay."

Peyton sighed shakily, and she stood up to her bed and went to him in two steps, wrapping her arms around him. He hugged back, hard.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly when they drew back. "I'm really sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't be. I'm just feel bad about the way people are treating you, because of me. You don't deserve that."

Doing her best to ignore a sudden stab of guilt, Peyton locked her gaze with his. "I don't care about them. You're worth all of them."

He nodded a little. After a moment, he whispered, "This is strange, right? Me and you. I mean…we just met, but I feel like I've known you forever, like you're already a huge part of my life."

Peyton's heart was racing; she nodded. "I know."

"This…it doesn't happen often, does it? It's different."

"Yeah…" she breathed. "Yeah, it is."

She wanted to do it, but was too terrified; so it was Lucas who leaned forward, closed the gaps, and urgently pushed his lips against hers.


	4. City of Devils

**Hey guys, you've been awesome as usual with the reviews. I was pretty excited about this chapter because there's a lot of important stuff in it. It's also pretty long, or maybe it just feels that way because it's eventful…either way, I'd love reviews to let me know what you think of all of it, not just the last little bit : ). Enjoy**

_Chapter Four_

_City of Devils_

_In a city of devils we live  
A city of devils we live  
Find somebody to learn  
Boy you gotta love someone more than yourself  
And I can feel the fire of city lights burn  
And it's hard to find angels in Hell_

_Yellowcard, City of Devils_

Lucas' hands were trembling on her back when they finally pulled apart just slightly. Peyton, sharply gasping for breath, kept her eyes closed.

"Peyt?" He whispered gently.

"Mmm?" She mumbled incoherently, her eyes still closed.

"Was that…was that bad?" He asked nervously.

At that, her eyes finally opened and met his, green finding blue. Breathlessly, she told him, "If you get any better it would probably kill me."

He laughed once, nervously. "I think I needed that."

She nodded, beaming up at him. "Yeah. Me, too."

Lucas' smile faded, then, and suddenly he inwardly cursed himself for giving in to his selfish impulse. It was too soon, and he knew that, yet he did it anyway. He hadn't been able to help himself. "Peyton…" he began. "I don't think we can do that again for awhile…"

Peyton felt only a dull pang of disappointment; she had been expecting that. The kiss itself had shocked her, maybe not in the moment because God help her she had _felt_ that, but overall…she hadn't expected anything like that. Not for a long, long time.

So she smiled softly, "It's okay. I sort of…figured."

He gave her a bittersweet smile. They were quiet for a moment, then he said quietly, "Hope."

"What?"

"That's what I needed. That's what you are."

Peyton ducked her head momentarily, then looked up at him again. "You, too."

Lucas' face suddenly broke into a tender smile as he took in her shy smile, the vulnerability of her expression. "C'mere…" he said, pulling her into another hug.

God, she loved him. This single thought was screaming through her mind, an undeniable truth. Suddenly, her eyes flooded with tears. They had hope, they had possibility, but it could all go very wrong. She had to tell him. Her voice cracked on the single syllable she forced out, "Luke…."

He waited in the silence.

"I have to tell you something…"

There was a catch in her voice, and Lucas pulled back from the hug just a little, looking at her quizzically, one hand cupping her cheek. "What's wrong?"

She looked up at him; he looked so worried in that moment, so ready to fix whatever was wrong as long as she'd tell him, that the words stuck in her throat.

She _had_ to tell him. But she _couldn't _do it.

Instead, she shook her head vigorously. "I'm sorry."

Confused, Lucas looked down at her. "What do you have to be sorry for, girlie?"

She clammed up. "Never mind."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas didn't feel like going straight home after he left Peyton's. He was experiencing a strange, dizzying sensation brought on by too many conflicting emotions.

Giving in to an old instinct, he walked straight to the River Court. As he got closer, he could hear the distant, rhythmic thud of a basketball, see the silhouette of someone already there.

As he drew closer, he could see it was his brother. Lucas watched for a second, an amused smile spreading, then said, "You know, there were times when it would have seemed crazy to think the Great Nathan Scott would actually be here on his own."

Nathan turned, momentarily startled, then grinned cockily, "You're lucky that changed. I make this place look good."

"Like it needed it." Nathan tossed the ball to his older brother, who immediately fired off his signature fade away shot.

Lucas looked at Nathan. "Why are you here so late?"

Nathan retrieved the basketball and began spinning it unconsciously in his hands. "Play-offs start next week. I'm pretty wired. How about you?"

After a beat, Lucas stated simply, "I kissed Peyton."

Nathan's hands stopped moving the ball, and he looked up at Lucas with an expression of mild surprise. "Already?"

He laughed once, harshly. "Messed up, right?" He looked down, confessing, "I couldn't help it."

"Yeah…" Nathan shot again, perfect swish, but this time he let the rebound go. "Haley said you like her."

"It's more than that, Nate…I'm falling for her. It's insane, how quick it's happened, and I know the timing is _horrible_."

"Luke…I know what everyone at school is saying. How Haley feels about it. And I know that what happened to Brooke sucks. But her dying doesn't mean you two had a perfect relationship."

Lucas' mind jolted back several weeks, one of the last conversations he and Brooke had had.

_He was reading __Of Mice and Men__, lying on his bed with Brooke next to him, her head resting somewhere between his chest and shoulder._

_"Hey, Luke?"_

_He nearly groaned out loud this time. He'd only finished another two pages; Brooke was not a big believer in silences. Even this far into their relationship, she always felt the need to fill silences with discussions, to be "doing something" when they were together. _

_Lucas lowered his book and said teasingly, "I thought you were taking a nap."_

_"Turns out I'm not tired." _

_"Then what's up?"_

_She looked up at him, her expression uncharacteristically pensive. "Do you ever worry about us? Do you ever think that…maybe we're together out of habit? Or because it's expected?"_

_He closed the book completely, sitting up to stare at her. "Jesus, Brooke."_

_She shrugged a little, studying him closely. "I was just asking if you think about it."_

_He shook his head a little. "Usually if someone asks a question like that it's just a roundabout way of saying what they're thinking."_

_"Or what they think the other person is."_

_He opened his mouth to protest. "Brooke-"_

_She shook her head a little. "Forget I said anything. Stupid moment."_

Lucas looked at his brother, his expression pained. "Yeah, I know it doesn't." He suddenly sat down, tilting his face up to the sky. After only a brief hesitation, Nathan joined him, resting one hand briefly on Luke's shoulder.

Lucas glanced at him. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"

"Are you kidding me? Luke, you're like one of the best guys I know."

He hesitated, "Does Haley?"

Nathan sighed a little. "You know she doesn't, Luke. She just…I think after Brooke died, she somehow wanted to keep her own hurt away by focusing on taking care of you. And we knew you wanted space, you wouldn't talk to anyone, say a word…it's like you went right from there to be okay. And I think Haley wanted to be the one to get you there."

"I'm not…_fine_. I think about her all the time. I miss her. I still can't really process that she's gone for good. But…this thing with Peyton. It's separate. Does that make sense? It's like it doesn't have anything to do with Brooke. Even if Brooke was still…even if she was here and fine, I would still feel like this about Peyton. I would still need to be with her."

"Yeah?"

"I told her…I told her I wasn't ready. After the kiss, I said I needed time. I just can't figure out if I did it because I'm honestly not ready or just because…I know I shouldn't be."

LPLPLPLPLP

"Peyton?"

"In here…the living room." Lucas closed Peyton's front door and stepped in, curious. In all the times he'd been to Peyton's house recently, they'd never spent time anywhere except her bedroom or, occasionally, the kitchen. Her voice floated through the hallway again. "_Shit_…"

Laughing he poked his head around the corner. "Not happy to see me, I take it?" His laughter abated instantly as he took in the mess of the living room. "God, no wonder we never hang out in here."

Peyton was sitting forlornly in the center of the living room, surrounded by stacks of boxes. She gave him a helpless look, "My dad left without unpacking everything."

He laughed a little. "I can see that. God, it's easy to forget you just moved in. Especially when I looked at your record collection."

"I unpacked that first," she told him matter-of-factly, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Naturally."

"Anyway, I wanted to make breakfast this morning, and I realized that, although Dad went grocery shopping just before he left, we don't have any _utensils_ or _cups _or _plates_ or anything else essential in the whole freaking house…"

It was a Saturday morning, a few days after Peyton and Lucas' kiss. Both had been worried that their effortless friendship may have been awkward or tense following the moment they'd shared, but it had, if anything, intensified. It was as though they had both needed that kiss as a promise of hope, so now, in the aftermath, the knowledge of possibility stayed with them.

"So, basically, you're trying to unpack."

"Good guess."

"Cool." Lucas joined Peyton, kneeling on the floor and grabbing a box. "Let me help."

Peyton stared at him. "You sure? It's Saturday…you really don't have to."

He waved off her protests. "It's not a problem. Where should we start?"

Peyton surveyed the cramped area. "Anywhere, I guess. Some of the boxes were labeled so I knew we wouldn't need them…I put them in the basement. But some of these I'm not sure about…"

They spent the next few hours going through boxes, organizing the kitchen, and making multiple trips to the basement. Peyton put on some music, singing loudly along with the songs as though she forgot he was there. After awhile of this, even Lucas began to belt out along with the stereo, in all his tone-deaf glory.

At one point, they were on opposite sides of the living room when Peyton let out a whoop of delight. He turned and saw her pulling board games and video cassettes out of a box. "Look, I found all my old Disney movies! Lion King, Beauty and the Beat…And my games…Clue, Mouse Trap…ooh, Guess Who! God, I used to kick ass at Guess Who…"

Lucas laughed, watching her fondly.

She grinned up at him. "Is it bad that I want to play this right now?"

He thought for a second, then said, "You know what? Tonight, we should have…" He paused dramatically. "A Regression."

"A what?"

"A Regression. We _regress_ back to childhood. We can watch your movies, play the games, eat junk food…it'll be fun. And we'll have plenty of room in here by tonight, what with our excellent moving skills."

Peyton was nodding slowly, a smile spreading. "Sounds like a plan."

LPLPLPLPLP

They ate sandwiches off of paper plates for lunch, passing a bag of Doritos bag and forth across the living room. At one point, Peyton walked in from the kitchen after a good twenty minutes of organizing the utensil drawer to find Lucas had stopped working, and was bent over the contents of one box in fascination.

"What'd you find?"

He turned to look at her, grinning. "Photo albums. Loving this one." He pointed to the center of one page, a picture of three year old Peyton in the bathtub, grinning up at the camera, unruly blonde curls covered in bubbles.

Peyton groaned in embarrassment. "Shut _up_." She sank onto the floor to join him as he turned pages, laughing at every semi-embarrassing shot of Peyton.

"You were cute," he informed her.

She smirked, "I know." Then her smile faded as Lucas turned the page and she found herself staring at a page full of photos of her mother and herself. Peyton had been about six, and all the photos were close-ups of the two of them, on the same day, mugging for the camera. In one they stuck their tongues out, in another they attempted to look cross eyed. One was simple smiling. One, Peyton was giggling as her mother tickled her. Another, Peyton was grinning at the camera as her mother looked at her, an affectionate, tender smile on her face.

Her throat tightened painfully and the photos suddenly blurred in front of her. She should be used to things like this by now, but suddenly she felt the raw sting of her mother's death, her father's absence, the lack of family.

Next to her, Lucas had fallen silent, watching Peyton's heart wrenching expression as she stared down at the photos. He didn't have words for a moment like this, so he simply slipped his hand into hers and gently squeezed.

In response, she moved a little closer, leaning against him. Her voice was a little shaky when she spoke. "Luke? Do you wanna know why we moved?" He nodded mutely, and she continued, "My Dad grew up here. But my mom and her parents lived in St. Flora. They met at college, and he moved there when they got married.

"After my mom died, my dad took a year off from work, so he could be home with me. But eventually he had to go back, so my Grandma moved in with us, so she would be there when my Dad was away on a job.

"She got sick a couple months ago, cancer…and she went pretty fast. She died a month ago."

Lucas gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"Dad took a little more time off, but then he decided I was old enough to be left alone when he was gone. He'd always wanted to move back here, and it was closer to a port, so we moved." She paused, tilting her head back to look at him. "See…this silence, being alone. It's new. And I just…I'm really glad you're here."

LPLPLPLPLP

"Is it a man?"

Peyton rolled her eyes. "The clichéd first question of Guess Who."

Lucas glared at her. "It's the _smart _question.

"If you say so. No, it's not a man."

Lucas began flipping down about half the cards on his half of the Guess Who board. They were sprawled in the center of the living room, on a makeshift pallet of blankets and pillows. The boxes had been completely unpacked or put away, and they had moved the coffee table and the couch back to make room for their Regression in front of the big screen TV.

"Your turn."

"Okay…is he wearing a hat?"

Lucas shook his head. "No, he's not."

Peyton smirked a little and began pushing down not only the hatless men, but all the women. After a beat, Lucas realized he'd been tricked. "Oh, come _on_."

Peyton smiled sweetly, "Your turn."

Lucas, still stinging from walking into her trap, complained, "Who the hell strategizes that much about _Guess Who_?"

Arching one eyebrow, Peyton shot back, "The girl who's about the kick your ass at it does."

Sure enough, Peyton won the first three games they played before Lucas held up his hands in defeat. "I give up. You're the master."

"Thank you." She reached out and grabbed a package of specialty cards. "Crazy Eights?"

Lucas grabbed the nearby Oreo package and grabbed a couple. "Not yet, let's watch Lion King first."

"Fine with me." Peyton stood to turn off the lamp and the video.

LPLPLPLPLP

Hours later, their third movie of the night, _Aladdin,_ had finished, and they had played all the games.

Not long after the second movie (_Beauty and the Beast)_, they had moved off the floor, transferring the blankets and pillows the large couch. Now, they were on opposites ends, the ends of their legs entangled in the center, a mess of blankets.

"Still a good movie," Lucas commented happily.

Peyton stifled a yawn. "Does it make you want to ride a magic carpet? Bust your head open again, maybe?"

"Funny." Lucas' eyelids were beginning to feel heavy with sleep. He closed them, nestling against one of the pillows. He heard a tiny click as Peyton turned off the television, felt the slight rustling on the other end of the couch as she made herself more comfortable.

"I liked our Regression," she murmured. "Sometimes I really wish I could go back to age seven and just stop everything."

"Yeah. It's weird how when you're a kid all you want to do it grow up. You don't figure out how awesome it is to be little until you're past it."

"Which completely sucks."

"Yeah."

They were quiet for a few more moments, and Peyton had nearly drifted off when Lucas' voice cut into the silence, "I want to kiss you."

Peyton's insides froze.

Lucas kept talking; the darkness seemed to make that easier, as though the words could slip out without him being fully responsible for them. "It's hard sometimes…being with you and _not _getting to do that…"

Peyton found her voice. "I know."

"I just…I can't do that yet, y'know?"

"I know."

He fell silent, and Peyton thought maybe this should be her moment; it seemed safe here in the darkness with him. She could just blurt it out, without having to see his face as the initial impact hit.

Before she could choose words, Lucas spoke again, with a sort of reassuring conviction. "But we will. You and me…we're going to be together. Someday. We're supposed to be. You feel it, don't you?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"Me, too."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas opened his eyes the next morning and, for a brief moment, could only blink in confusion.

Then, he caught of glimpse of Peyton, curled up at the other end of the couch, and he smiled. They'd fallen asleep after their Regression, and he'd accidentally spent the night at Peyton's house.

He carefully maneuvered his legs away from the couch's center so as not to disturb Peyton, standing up stiffly. He grabbed his cell phone from the floor and saw he'd missed three calls from his mother. He winced; he hadn't thought to call.

Quietly, he moved some of the food littering the floor into the kitchen. He grabbed a piece of paper off a legal pad and the kitchen and scribbled a note to Peyton _Had to take off. Last night was fun…didn't know it would turn into a 'slumber party'. That doesn't make me sound very manly. Ha. Call me later, girlie. Lucas._

He left it on the coffee table in front of the couch. As he was about to leave, he was stopped momentarily by the image of Peyton, deep in sleep. He smiled a little and then, impulsively, leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, just under the hairline. He let his fingers linger in her hair for just a second, then left the house.

LPLPLPLPLP

"Hey, you."

Peyton turned, instantly smiling at him. "You."

Lucas fell into step next to her. "Whatcha up to?"

Peyton gave him a sardonic smile. "Off to class."

"No way, so am I!"

"What are the chances," she said dryly. "Was your mom mad you didn't call the other night?"

"Not really. I just told her I accidentally fell asleep…nothing really to get angry about." Lucas nudged his shoulder against hers. "So regressions are fun, huh?"

"Oh, definitely one of your better ideas." She smirked. "I'll take any excuse to kick your butt in children's board games."

"Hey, I won two games of Old Maid, if you recall." She swatted him playfully and Lucas grinned, continuing, "The movies are my favorite part, anyway."

Teasing, Peyton told him innocently, "Yeah, I noticed you welling up when Mufasa died."

Instantly defensive, Lucas pointed a finger at her. "_Hey_, anyone who _doesn't_ cry at that is completely heartless…"

She laughed. "I gotta go this way. See you at lunch?"

"As always."

Peyton was still smiling to herself as she turned the hall to head to her first period classroom. Suddenly, Teresa and Bevin ran by her, for once not stopping to throw insults.

"_Rachel!_"

Peyton froze, paralyzed, at the name squealed by the two girls. She stared; the red headed girl, _Rachel_, the other driver….she was standing in front of Peyton's classroom, had been about to go in before Teresa and Bevin had ran forward to hug her.

Peyton's stomach folded, and for a moment she couldn't move. She quickly recovered rational thought, spinning in her path and heading in the direction she'd just come from, her heart pounding, memories assaulting her.

_There was sudden stillness, silence. Peyton opened her eyes slowly, afraid to move or breathe. _

_It was over. She was off the road, her car was still upright. She turned suddenly, her eyes darting around the road for the other car, the one she'd hit._

_Her hands trembled as she fumbled with her seatbelt. She pulled on the door handle furiously for several seconds before realizing it was locked._

_Peyton's legs were trembling beneath her, and for a moment she thought she might be nauseous. The other car was a little further down the road, half on the road and half on the side._

_Peyton moved toward it just a little, her legs like lead. She took in one detail at a time. The huge dent in the passenger door of the other car, from where she'd hit it. She shattered windshield. The glass that marked the path from the part of impact to the end point._

_The driver got out of the other car. She was her age, or at least very close; that was the first thing Peyton noticed. There was blood on her shoulder._

_The red haired girl ran around the car to the passenger door, having to work hard to pry it open. She was screaming, "Brooke! Brooke!"_

_Peyton ran a little closer. "Is she alright?" _

_The girl turned to glare at her, her face nearing hysteria. "What did you __do__?! What did you do to her, you bitch?!" She turned back, half-screaming, half crying. "Brooke, wake up! Wake __up__!!"_

_Peyton reached into her pocket for her cell phone, trembling finger dialing 911. _

_They'd run a red light. They'd been flying through that intersection. It hadn't been her fault. She kept trying to remind herself these things as she spoke the dispatcher._

_She glanced up. The driver was trying to get the other girl from the car. Peyton ran forward, "I don't think you're supposed to move-"_

_"Shut up!!" The girl screamed. She turned to stare at Peyton, her eyes wild. "Shut __up__, look what you did…oh, my God…" She began to sob. "Brooke…" _

_Peyton didn't want to, but she found herself looking into the car._

_The girl was pretty; flawless skin, shiny brown hair. Her eyes were closed, and there was blood soaking through her silk top._

_She was slumped in an odd way, and that was when Peyton noticed her seatbelt wasn't buckled._

_There were sirens now, getting closer. Peyton didn't look at the ambulances and police cars when they pulled up; she simply stood, rooted in place, unable to move her eyes from this girl's face._

_A policeman gently took hold of her arm and led her away, saying something about needing to get a statement. He asked her name, which car she'd been driving. Peyton couldn't answer; not until paramedics had rushed over and bent in front of the other car, blocking her view._

_She could hear the other driver screaming. Her heart pounding in her ears, she began to stammer, "I-I didn't…I c-couldn't stop…they ran a red light, I didn't see-"_

_"It's alright." The police officer said kindly. "We got another call just after yours, someone who saw it happen. Now, tell me your name."_

_"Peyton Sawyer." She whispered. Her eyes were glued on the paramedics. She could hear urgent voices, see them bent over the girl._

_One of the other police officers moved and she could see enough to realize they were shocking her heart._

_"Peyton, can you tell me a number where I can reach your parents?"_

_She didn't answer; every muscle in her body felt paralyzed. Her eyes began to ache with the pressure of threatening tears._

_One paramedic shook his head. Stood up. Put the paddles down._

_She heard the red headed girl scream 'no' over and over, hysteria building. Saw her collapse to the ground, raise her head and stare at Peyton, her expression venomous._

_What did you do?_

Peyton ducked into the nearest restroom just as the late bell rang. She was breathing in short, uneven gasps.

She always knew this was a possibility; her first day, it was what she had dreaded; that she would have to see Rachel, have her announce to the whole school Peyton's involvement.

Now, everything had shifted. She didn't care about Rachel herself, she didn't care about the rest of the school. She only cared about Lucas.

She had to tell him. Immediately. There was no alternative, not anymore. Better he hear it from her than Rachel, or someone else in the school.

It would all be over. He would discover she had lied to him, and the truth would break him. All that possibility, that _hope_ that had been keeping them going…it was about to be shattered.

LPLPLPLPLP

"That bitch we were telling you about is in this class. You know, the one Lucas is practically dating?"

Rachel merely nodded in response to Teresa's comment. After a beat of the other staring expectantly at her, she added, "He's really dating someone else?"

Haley turned around, inviting herself into the conversation. "They aren't dating."

Teresa rolled her eyes. "I said _practically_."

They waited, eyes on the door. But the tardy bell, followed by the final bell rang and she never showed up.

Bevin shrugged. "Oh, well. Maybe she's off skipping with Lucas."

LPLPLPLPLP

Just before the bell to end first period rang, Peyton positioned herself outside the door to Lucas' classroom. There was a growing knot in her stomach, and she wanted nothing more than to put this off, but there was no way; for all she knew, he had his next class with Rachel.

Lucas was the fifth student out of the door, and he looked surprised to see her. "Hey, girlie. How'd you get here so fast?"

Peyton met his eyes. "I have to talk to you."

Lucas' expression immediately darkened with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I-I just… I have to tell you something. Now."

Lucas stared at Peyton with increasing alarm. Her eyes were wide and frightened, her face pale. "Sure, come here…" He put a hand comfortingly on her back and guided her swiftly down the hall until they came to the door of the AV room.

"You're not in AV Club." Peyton said somewhat dazedly as he closed and locked the door behind him.

"No one has to know that." Lucas turned to face her, placing his hands on her arms. His eyes instantly widened. "Peyton, you're shaking…"

She nodded, knowing she had to start but unable to find the words. God, the look on his face was breaking her; it was as though he was waiting for her to tell him whatever was scaring her so he could make it all better, be her hero, her protector. The truth was, she wished she could somehow protect _him_ from this.

She felt tears pricking in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to speak but instead a shuddering gasp escaped.

"Peyt," His fear was growing, so he reached one hand up to cup her face soothingly, his voice gentle and coaxing. "Peyt, what is it? You can tell me."

Her voice was barely audible, and each word physically hurt, "I was driving the other car. In Brooke's accident, I was in the car that hit them."

His hand fell limply away from her face and Lucas stared intently at her, his expression one of utter incomprehension. "Wh-…what?"

He throat tightened painfully, and Peyton pressed her lips together. She couldn't answer.

Taking a few short steps backwards, Lucas' eyes never left her face. His face seemed to slowly crumple, the confused expression replaced with quick flashes of shock, anger, and pain. "_What?_"

Tears slipped from her eyes, and Peyton's voice trembled as she said weakly, "Luke, I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Lucas' lungs closed, his stomach went limp. He turned away from her abruptly, his hands gripping his head, muttering to himself. "Oh, God…oh my God…_damn_ it…." He whirled back around, his expression anguished. "You should have….you never told me…"

"I know, I didn't know how to, Luke, I _couldn't_. B-but I'm telling you now…"

There was a beat of silence and then he said shortly, "Rachel. You saw Rachel's here. That's why you told me." Peyton couldn't dispute this. She watched him, praying silently for some sign of tenderness, of softness. He turned away again, his back to her, breathing hard. After a long moment of silence, he broke with a furious yell, "God _damnit_, Peyton!" His arm swung forward, knocking a shelf full of filmstrips to the end.

Peyton's heart felt as though it flew forward at the sudden noise. The almost animalistic moment of rage that was so out of character for the sweet, gentle boy she'd fallen for so quickly. "Lucas…I wanted to tell you, I _tried_…it wasn't my fault, Luke, she ran a red light, there wasn't anything I could do…" He didn't turn around. Peyton's tears flowed freely, and choked sobs rose from her chest. After a long time of heavy silence, Peyton cried tearfully, "Damn it, Luke, I _love_ you-"

"_Stop_." He yelled forcefully, a catch in his voice nonetheless. "Just stop it, don't do that. You _can't_ do that now, _I_ can't…" He stopped suddenly, feeling suddenly smothered in the tiny room. He spoke each word slowly and deliberately, as though he was having to remind himself how to speak between each one. "I have to get out of here. I…I can't be here. I can't even look at you right now."

"Lucas," It came out a whimper, directed at a slammed door.

She stood there for a long time in the silence, heartsick. Then she sank slowly to the floor, her body suddenly wracked with harsh sobs.


	5. Ruthless

**Hey guys, thanks so much for the reviews of last chapter…I'm really sorry for the delay, I usually don't make this a habit, but I had to switch computers again, as well as reload some stuff on my old one, so it took a little longer to get this chapter together. Hope you enjoy it! Reviews make my day!**

_Chapter Five_

_Ruthless_

_But there you go for the last time  
I finally know now what I should have known then  
And I could still be ruthless if you let me  
But there you go when I'm not done  
You're waving goodbye well at least you're having fun  
The rising tide will not let you forget me_

_Ruthless, Something Corporate_

Lucas Scott felt as though his head may split open. It was pounding, a sharp ache prominent. The physical manifestation of his many emotions.

He focused on that pain. He was moving through the hallway, not seeing anything, not thinking.

His eyes zeroed in on the glass trophy case at one end of the hall, and he felt a sudden overpowering urge to drive his fist against it. To cause devastation. To destroy. To take his frustration, his fury, his disappointment, his loss, his powerlessness, his pain, _all _of it, and hurt something else.

Lucas paused, his fists clenching, staring at the case. In the next instant he turned, frightened of the sudden intensity of this desire, and headed in a different direction.

The final bell for second period had rung; the hallways were empty. He made it the gym, which during school was always silent and solemn, so different from the deafening, pulsing place it turned into on game nights.

Lucas began to run. He ran the toughest conditioning drills Whitey had ever thrown at them, all for himself, no pauses in between. He ran until his muscles burned, until his feet ached, until his lungs felt ready to burst.

After awhile, screams tore from his throat, echoing across the walls. He screamed obscenities and he screamed nothing. He needed a release.

Sweat dripped into his eyes, and Lucas never stopped long enough to wipe it away, so his eyes burned and he viewed the gym as a haze.

When moving became a physical impossibility, Lucas collapsed onto the gym floor, dizzy, his chest heaving.

"You trying to kill yourself before play-offs, son?"

Lucas looked over his shoulder. Whitey Durham was standing in the doorway that went from the gym to the athletic offices, watching him.

Lucas didn't say anything. Whitey took his time in walking over, standing over Luke. When he looked down at him, his eyes were kind and sympathetic. "Get up, Lucas. Come sit in my office, we'll have a talk."

Lucas couldn't look his coach in the eye. "I can't…" He pulled himself up, his legs throbbing under him; he knew Whitey wanted to talk about his grief over his girlfriend's death; he was finally behaving like they all expected him, too, and Brooke had only been a part of it.

" I have to go….late for class." Instead, however, he went into the boys locker room.

There was a rack of basketballs, and in one quick motion Lucas kicked it over. He grabbed one of the nearest basketballs and hurled it at the wall.

He had never felt so full of rage. The crazy thing was, most of it wasn't directed at Peyton. He was angry she hadn't told him, but that wasn't all of it.

It just wasn't fair.

It had already felt like a betrayal. He was falling in love just after his girlfriend's death. It was always going to be difficult; he was always going to feel guilty.

Now, however, it was impossible. Being with Peyton would be the ultimate treachery. Even if they were together, she would now serve as a constant reminder to what had happened, a connection to that day.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton sat curled in the floor of the A/V room through most of second period, her body shuddering with hard, quiet sobs, tears spilling endlessly from her eyes.

It had been worse than she'd thought. Not because she had imagined him being any more forgiving, any less angry…she had just been unable to mentally concoct the image of his face as he processed the confession, or imagine how much it would hurt to see that he couldn't even look at her.

She hadn't meant to say she loved him. She had planned on holding onto that one for awhile; until they were dating, and until a _sane_ amount of time had passed. She hadn't even known him three full weeks, and yet she was using those words already.

Still, in that moment, she had been desperately trying to say anything she could to make him look at her, to bring out some trace of the sweet boy she already knew so well. And that phrase, one she'd felt from the moment she saw him, named at last when they kissed…it had been all she had, and it had burst forth before she could stop it.

After awhile, Peyton made herself stand. It was nearly time for second period to end; she couldn't seem to make herself care that she'd already skipped two classes.

She went to the bathroom, still breathing unsteadily. She looked a mess: red, bloodshot eyes, her face tear-streaked. She wiped the glittering tear tracks away with a paper towel, and then began to reapply her make-up, hands trembling. She wasn't sure why she was bothering; the only person she cared about in this school wasn't looking at her, anyway.

At this thought, her eyeliner slipped from her hand as a fresh wave of tears hit her. She leaned on the sink with one hand, the other coming up to cover her face as she cried.

There were footsteps, and suddenly she heard a somewhat familiar voice. "Oh…Peyton?" She glanced over to see a blurry Haley James Scott, holding a hall pass and blinking at Peyton in bewilderment. "Are you okay?"

She nodded stupidly, swiping at the tears and swallowing hard until she managed the quell the sobs. "I'm fine."

Haley hesitated. She knew this was none of her business; while she had never taken part in the other cheerleaders ridicule of Peyton Sawyer, she had also not bothered to get to know her or even utter a friendly word to her.

Still, she had a pretty strong feeling that whatever it was that was making Peyton cry had something to do with Lucas, and Haley's curiosity was strong. This, coupled with Haley's genuine sympathy, made her remain rooted in place.

"What happened?"

Peyton closed her eyes. "It doesn't matter. Lucas'll tell you soon." Then Peyton turned and walked out.

LPLPLPLPLP

Rachel couldn't make herself be too interested in the constant chattering of her friends, all of whom were being extra peppy in an attempt to cheer her up. The entire morning was a constant stream of updates on Tree Hill High students.

They kept bringing up Lucas and some new girl he supposedly hung out with all the time. Teresa in particular seemed to hold a particular hatred for the girl, and was proud to report the barrage of insults they liked to throw at her.

"Lucas even put Haley up to asking if you we could let her on the cheer squad! I was like, 'are you _serious_?' As if we'd ever let _her_ join!"

Rachel nodded along when it was expected. Maybe coming back had been a bad idea. It wasn't a distraction. It wasn't making her forget.

She hadn't thought it mattered. They always broke speed limits in town; they'd agreed they were unreasonable. And racing the yellow white was another common practice, no matter who was driving.

Now, Rachel wanted to go back in time and change a simple little thing; how hard her foot pressed the accelerator, whether or not she'd slowed down; decide to say something when she saw Brooke didn't have a seatbelt on. She wanted to change it so much that it hurt, that she couldn't see straight.

_ "Bitch," Brooke had said cheerfully, responding to some biting comment._

_Rachel smirked a little. "Whore."_

It was one of the unique things about their friendship, the way they'd turn common insults into affectionate terms. Still, Rachel wished the last thing she said to Brooke was something nicer, deeper.

She wished a lot of things.

Bevin began hitting her shoulder, over and over, insistent. "Look, Rach, there she is! Lucas' girl."

Rachel looked up, only mildly interested; that is, until she saw the girl Bevin was pointing to. Rachel gasped, her eyes widening. "_That's _her?!"

"Yeah. Peyton something."

Rachel continued to stare, laughing incredulously. "Oh, Lucas…no fucking way."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas practically collapsed into the chair next to his brother, across from his sister-in-law. Every joint and muscle in his body were screaming from his self directed workout during second period. He had showered, at least, before heading back to class.

Nathan and Haley looked at him questioningly the moment he sat. "Where were you during Calculus?"

Lucas spoke gruffly, "I skipped."

Haley peered at her best friend intently. "Why don't you have any food."

"Not hungry."

Nathan looked at Haley, confused, but she kept her tone purposeful as she asked, "Did something happen between you and Peyton?"

He looked up at her. "Why would you think that?"

Haley sighed impatiently, "Because she skipped first period and you skipped second, and I guess she skipped second, too, seeing as I found her crying in the bathroom during it."

"She was?" Lucas asked hoarsely.

Nathan looked at this brother. "Luke, c'mon, man, what happened?"

He looked at Nathan for a moment, but then his eyes darted to Haley. He hastily pushed back his chair and stood. "I can't."

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton felt lost.

She should be meeting Lucas to go to lunch. Taking their usual table outside, talking or studying or sitting on the same side of the table, sharing her iPod. It was the best part of her school day, the part that made her stop caring about the hostile stares or the whispered insults.

She hung around her locker for the longest time, waiting for him, wishing in vain that he would show up for some reason.

He didn't.

Peyton wasn't hungry, but she still had a good forty minutes to kill, and she couldn't spend it all standing in a hallway.

Instead, she went outside, bypassing the lunch tables and sitting herself down on a bench far away from most activity. She didn't think she could take any whispers or stares right now.

She thought she had resigned herself to what would happen when the truth came out. She had told herself again and again that it would push Lucas away; that was the exact reason she'd had such trouble telling him.

Now, though, she couldn't accept it. She had to talk to him again, try to make him understand.

She was trying to think of something to say, attempting to mentally prepare an explanation, _something_ that would make him at least _look_ at her, when a voice startled her, "Well, well."

Peyton looked up, startled. When she saw who had spoken, Peyton's stomach dropped.

Rachel was standing in front of her; her expression was passive, but her eyes held a fury. "What are you doing here?" she asked flatly.

"I go here." Peyton told her simply.

Rachel stepped closer, her voice low. "They don't know, do they? None of them know that you killed her."

A sudden wave of panic washed over Peyton; the image of Brooke Davis' lifeless face, followed by Lucas' angry expression, flashed in her mind. Peyton willed these images away, trying to be rational, "Rachel. I'm sorry, alright? I am. I'm sorry it happened, and I'm sorry you have to go through that." Peyton paused, attempting to project a forceful tone, an effort that was undercut by the way her voice shook. "But it _wasn't_ my fault, and I think you know that."

Rachel continued, her voice shaking with anger, seemingly ignoring Peyton's statements, "And they say _you're_ trying to make a play for Lucas Scott. Just who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just replace her, you think you can _kill_ her and then try to take her boyfriend-"

"I didn't _kill_-"

Rachel's voice was bordering hysteria again, "If _you_ hadn't been there, she'd still be alive!! _Your _car did it, it hurt her, that was _you_!"

Peyton finally lost any sense of rationality or calm, "Well, _you_ ran the red light! So maybe you should be blaming _yourself_-"

Rachel slapped her suddenly, hard. Peyton stopped talking instantly, her hand flying automatically to touch her stinging cheek. Rachel's chest was heaving, her eyes wild. She managed only one word, delivered with full venom, "_Don't_."

Peyton's heart was pounding. Her voice much softer, she said, "Look…I didn't mean that, okay? Look, my mom died when I was nine because she ran a red light at the worst possible moment. It was a mistake. One tiny, little driving mistake that people make every day….it doesn't mean she deserved to die. And it doesn't mean _you_ deserved to have Brooke die-"

Rachel, who had been staring at the ground since slapping Peyton, looked up suddenly, "Don't say her name to me, you don't get to do that."

Peyton felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. Nothing she said was making a difference.

Rachel continued, "You didn't know her. And you don't know Lucas, either. He was totally in love with her, so whatever you think _you_ have with him, you might want to think again. Because it's not real, and it won't last...especially when he and everyone else finds out what you did."

Rachel began to walk away, then turned to add, "No one wants you here, _Peyton._ The sooner you realize that, the better."

LPLPLPLPLP

"You ready to talk about it?" Nathan asked cautiously.

Lucas didn't take his eyes off the basket. "No."

He was standing on the edge of the three point line, shooting basket after basket. Whitey was watching him warily, and most of the guys were keeping their distance as usual. Nathan, however, was attempting to make his brother open up.

"But it _is_ about Peyton?"

_Swish_. The ball fell through the basket. Lucas turned to face Nathan. "Nate. I said I'm not talking about it, okay?'

Nathan held up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough." He glanced across the gym at the cheerleaders, then changed the subject, "You see Rachel today?"

He shook his head, then followed Nathan's gaze over to the cheerleaders, who didn't seem to be doing much practicing, and were instead gathered around Rachel. "Not until now."

When practice was over, Lucas moved over to the bleachers to sit. His leg muscles burned, the 'work-out' from earlier taking its toll.

He rested his arms on his legs, dropping his head, eyes closed. He could barely wrap his mind around it; Peyton's car, her Comet…plowing into Rachel's. Hitting on Brooke's side.

In the back of his mind, he reminded himself that Rachel had run the red light, that she'd been speeding, that Brooke hadn't been buckled. That all Peyton had really done was drive through a green light…like she was supposed to.

What had it been like for her? Having to carry that with her, to start the same school? To find out that the only person to speak to her was…well, _him_.

Lucas tried to will these thoughts away. She hadn't told him, in all this time. He'd mentioned Brooke several times, and Peyton had listened, neutral and understanding. Yet she'd been there, had maybe even _seen_ Brooke after it happened…

He gritted his teeth, fighting a wave of nausea, when he heard a tentative voice. "Lucas?"

Glancing up, he saw Rachel standing in front of him, clutching her cheerleading bag and looking at him with a wary expression.

After a moment's pause, Lucas answered in a detached voice. "What?"

"Um…How are you?"

A hush seemed to have fallen over the rest of the gym, as the other players and cheerleaders watched them interestedly. Lucas sighed tiredly. "What do you want, Rachel?"

Rachel looked away. "I just…wanted to see how you were. I didn't get a chance to see you, at the funeral and all-"

"Yeah, I heard you left," he said flatly.

"Yeah, well…" Rachel shrugged. "I wasn't doing so great."

Lucas shrugged. Silence settled, and she continued to hover. His voce growing more and more impatient, Lucas said, "Was there something else?"

Rachel's voice shook a little. "It wasn't my fault."

Something in Lucas snapped, the culmination of the anger swirling in his mind all day escaping as his voice hardened and he snapped, "Look, if you're waiting for me to make you feel better about being the reason my girlfriend is _dead_ then you're going to be waiting awhile."

The gym was silent; Rachel looked as though she'd been slapped. Slowly, however, the hurt look faded, and she glared at him. Raising her voice, she shot back, "Don't you mean your _old_ girlfriend, Luke? Because, from what I hear, you moved on pretty fast."

Lucas' chest tightened suddenly as he realized what was about to happen. He lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. "Rachel-"

"Speaking of dear old _Peyton Sawyer_…while we're talking about who's to blame for what happened, her name might need to come up. But I bet you didn't know that, did you?"

Still whispering, Lucas said, "Rachel. _Don't."_

Rachel was practically leering at him. "She was the one driving the car. The one that hit us. If she hadn't been going so fast, if she could've stopped in time…Brooke would still be here."

The collective gasps that traveled through the gym would have struck Lucas as melodramatic if the situation were any different.

"How does that work, Luke? This girl is the reason your girlfriend's dead, your girlfriend of _two_ _years_, and you waste no time in hooking up with her? Is she that easy, or did she just not tell you what happened?"

"_Stop_ it!" Lucas yelled, backing away from her. "Just _shut up_, Rachel!"

"Maybe you don't have any right to blame _me_ for anything, do you?"

"Shut _up_!" The strength of his frustration, his anger, was scaring Lucas. His lungs felt tighter, smaller; it was as though he couldn't get enough air. Suddenly, he turned, began moving swiftly to the door of the gym.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton was standing in the student parking lot, perched on the hood of her car, waiting for basketball practice to be over. Since she'd gotten her Comet back and begun driving to school, she and Lucas had been parking side by side, always the same spot. If they arrived at the same time, they would walk in together.

Every routine she had managed to establish in this school was linked to Lucas. Without him here, Peyton had nothing.

He had moved back to his old seat in fourth period. Granted, that just involved taking the one on the left instead of the right, but the gesture was symbolic. He had stared determinedly down at his notebook when she'd walked in, taking her old seat in the back row.

Now, Peyton _had_ to talk to him. She still hadn't been able to focus enough to determine exactly what she would say; she simply knew she had to try.

None of the crowd had emerged from the gym, so Peyton wasn't paying attention when suddenly Lucas came striding toward his car; he wasn't running, but he was walking as fast as possible without making the transition.

Peyton stood up quickly as he approached, his eyes flitting over to her once. "Luke, can we maybe talk-"

"Leave me alone, Peyton," he said roughly.

Peyton followed him, trying to get between him and his car door. "Please, if you could just let me explain-"

"There's nothing to explain! You never said anything! You never would have, either, if Rachel hadn't come back."

"I wanted to tell you-"

"But you didn't! And you wouldn't have, and even if you had, it doesn't matter." He finally stopped trying to get past her and stopped, his jaw set. "You were driving the car that did it, you are technically the reason she's gone." Finally, his eyes locked with hers. "You can't do this, you can't…explain it away. It's done, you can't change it and now…it's out there. So I _can't_." He looked away again, studying the pavement, reaching past her to seize the door handle. "Now get out of the way."

Peyton's lower lip was trembling, tears threatening to overflow. She told herself to move out of his way, let him go, but she couldn't.

Lucas tore his gaze from hers, glancing back at the school. "God damn it, Peyton…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered pleadingly.

Lucas set his jaw and stared determinedly past her. "I wish you never came here."

The tears spilled over, and after a second of stunned silence, Peyton numbly moved out of his way. There was nothing left to say after something like that.

Lucas was doing everything he could to avoid looking at her. He moved silently into his car, pulling out of the parking lot with his heart thudding painfully.

LPLPLPLPLP

"I can't _believe_ it. I can't believe _her_," Haley had been fuming since they'd left the gym. She looked up at Nathan, "Can you?"

Nathan shrugged a little. "I didn't see that coming, no." He paused, then commented, "I feel kinda bad for her."

Haley looked at her husband incredulously, "Who, _Peyton_? Why?!"

"C'mon, Hales, you heard the accident report. Rachel was going way over the speed limit, and she ran a red light. It's not like it was Peyton's fault."

"Nathan, it doesn't _matter_. She should have told him!"

"She probably did. That's probably what was wrong with him at lunch."

Haley rolled her eyes. "I mean she should've told him _before_ Rachel came back and forced her to."

He nodded, "Yeah, she probably should have. But can you imagine how awful that would've been? He was the _only_ person to be nice to her, at a new school. And then to find out who he _was_? She liked him, Hales. How do you just bring up something like that?"

Haley sighed. "I know, but…that doesn't make it right."

"I know," he conceded.

"And besides, Rachel made it sound like it the accident was at least partially Peyton's fault."

Nathan gave his wife a semi-amused look, "Since when do you trust Rachel?"

"That's a big thing to lie about, Nathan," Haley countered quietly.

"Yeah, but she'd do it. You know Rachel's gotta be feeling shitty about what happened, blaming herself. I mean, Brooke was her best friend. If she tries to convince everyone else to blame Peyton, she might be able to convince herself."

Haley sighed, "You think it'll work?"

Nathan nodded seriously. "Yeah. People at school…they already resent Peyton because they think Luke's using her to replace Brooke. This is just going to push them further." He paused, then said thoughtfully, "It's gonna get pretty bad for her."

LPLPLPLPLP

"Lucas?" Karen entered her son's bedroom tentatively. He had stormed into the house over an hour ago without a word. "You hungry?"

He was sitting on his bed, leaning against the pillows, his arms folded against his stomach. He shook his head mutely.

Karen moved a little closer, scrutinizing him. "No plans with Peyton tonight?"

Karen had been carefully neutral about her son's friendship with Peyton. They had met a few times, at the café, and Karen liked her. However, she occasionally gave Lucas gently delivered bits of advice, usually telling him to be careful or not rush anything.

Now, he swallowed hard and answered softly, "No."

Sitting on the edge of her son's bed, Karen looked at him in concern. "What happened, Luke?"

His mother eyes were open and worried. Lucas, looked away, his eyes falling on his desk. He'd tacked the picture Peyton had drawn from him up, right next to a photo of him and Brooke.

_"Hey, pretty girl. You ready for the banquet tonight?"_

_"Yep. By the way, I decided on the red dress." She opened up his closet, studying for a moment, before picking up a tie. "Wear this one."_

_"Yes, ma'am," he answered teasingly._

_"By the way, everyone's going over to Rachel's after. Start the __real__ party," Brooke smiled. "I'm going with her later to pick up drinks ,and set up after, so you should probably just pick me up at her place."_

_"Will do. But, hey, I might skip out of Rachel's early."_

_Brooke wrinkled her nose. "Why?"_

_He shrugged. "Kinda tired."_

_Brooke rolled her eyes. "Tired of what, Lucas? Parties? Or me?"_

_He groaned, annoyed. "What's with you lately, Brooke?" _

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Three days ago you asked if I thought we were together out of habit, and now you're suggesting I'm tired of you because I don't want to go to Rachel's __again__?" He looked at her, questioning. "Did I do something to you?"_

_Brooke sighed heavily, sitting down on his bed next to him. "It's not anything you did, Luke. It's just…the way you've been acting lately."_

_"Okay, well, help me out then. How have I been acting?" He took her hand. "I haven't meant to be anything…I'm not mad at you or anything."_

_Brooke looked away. " I know you're not."_

_He tilted her face back to look at him, kissing her quickly. "Then what is it?"_

Lucas looked back at his mom. "Peyton…she told me this morning….she was the one driving the other car. In the accident. Her car hit Rachel's."

Karen inhaled sharply. "Oh, my…" She trailed off, then caught a glimpse of the stricken expression on her son's face. "Oh, Lucas…"

In a choked voice, he continued, "It wasn't her fault. I know that. But she should've told me. And now I can't…I can't look at her. Not without thinking about it. And I shouldn't…I _shouldn't _do that to Brooke, right?"

Karen could see the confusion in her son's eyes, and as much as she wanted to help ease it, she could think of nothing to say. "Oh, honey…that's tough."

"But what do I _do_?" He asked pleadingly.

Choosing her words carefully, Karen told him, "I suppose…you just have to decide for yourself if Peyton is worth it."

Lucas was quiet for a moment, then he said, "There's something else…Rachel, she…she told everyone. Well, she told the team, and the cheerleaders, so by tomorrow everyone will know, and…I don't know what they'll do to her."

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton walked into her room and immediately fell onto her bed, her eyes squeezed shut, Lucas' words echoing painfully in her ears.

The house was quiet. She knew it was something she should start getting used to.

She stood up suddenly, walking over to her record player and turned on music. Anything to fill the silence.

She returned to her bed, curling up against her pillows, letting herself cry quietly, yet again. She had thought she was cried out for the day, but apparently not.

Lucas was gone. Her father was gone. Everyone else in the school would soon believe she had killed Brooke Davis, and they would hate her even more than she already did.

At her old school, she'd been a strange sort of outsider of the popular crowd. She cheered, and she went to their parties, but she wasn't at all close to any of them. She hadn't minded being a bit of a loner that way; she used to be perfectly content to in a room filled with music, drawing.

That was before Lucas.

LPLPLPLPLP

"Hey," The hushed, hesitant tone of Haley's voice reminded him of how people had talked to him just after Brooke died. "Missed you this morning."

He had skipped school that morning; Haley and Nathan had shown up at his house over their lunch time.

Lucas shrugged. "I didn't feel like being there."

Haley and Nathan glanced at each other, then Nathan sat down on Lucas' desk chair and Haley sat next to him on his bed. "Are you okay?"

He smiled thinly, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Not really, no."

Haley put an arm around him. "I'm really sorry….when did she tell you?"

"Yesterday morning. Second period."

"That really sucks, Luke."

Nathan spoke up, "Have you talked to her today, man?" Haley shot him a look.

Lucas shook his head. "No. I-I can't." He looked from Haley to Nathan, then asked quietly, "Does everyone know?" Haley nodded silently. Lucas' voice was even softer when he asked, "Is Peyton alright?"

Nathan and Haley exchanged another glance, and then Haley told him, "She wasn't there this morning, either."

There was a silence, then Nathan added, "They painted her locker."

Lucas looked at him. "What?"

"Rachel, and some of the other cheerleaders. They painted 'bitch' on her locker." Lucas winced, and Nathan hastily added, "Which isn't that big of a deal…I mean, that could've been worse."

"It'll get worse," he said flatly.

"Aren't you mad at her, though?" Haley asked earnestly. "She lied to you-"

Lucas bristled instantly. "She doesn't deserve that. She doesn't deserve anything from them."

"Well, no, but-"

"I'm not…_mad_. Well, I am, but not a lot. I just…" He rubbed his face tiredly. "It's Brooke. I can't do that to her, it was bad enough before but now. And knowing Peyton was there, that she saw Brooke…_after_, I can't…." His face crumpled, his voice catching. "We were supposed to end up together…"

"Oh, buddy, I know," Haley said soothingly, giving Lucas a comforting sideways hug. "You two had your problems, but at the end of the day you were always there for each other, and to have her taken away so quickly…" Lucas caught his brother's eye.

Nathan interrupted his wife. "He's wasn't talking about Brooke, Hales."

LPLPLPLPLP

Two days after the revelation, Peyton made herself go to school. She walked in with even more anxiety than she had her first day, and this time she knew she wasn't imagining the stares and the murmurs that followed her.

As she approached her locker, a hush fell. She stared; in red paint, the word "BITCH" had been written vertically, covering the length of her locker.

She felt someone shove her from behind, and she stumbled forward against the locker. She whirled; Teresa and Becky, one of the other cheerleaders, were standing there. "Did you think we'd never find out what you did?"

"Why don't you just save yourself some time and go the fuck away?"

A guy Peyton had never spoken to before turned around, a few lockers down from hers. "No one wants you here."

Peyton turned around, trying to ignore them, her hand shakily turning her locker combination.

Then, sharp nails dug into her arm, pulling her back around. Rachel had somehow joined the crowd. She glared at Peyton, then glanced at the locker, "It's only going to get worse, you know. _Bitch_."

Peyton's eyes moved past Rachel, searching. They settled on Lucas, standing at his own locker just across the hall; he was watching, his eyes suddenly apologetic. For a moment, she was so relieved to see him look at her without anger, Peyton didn't care what it had taken.

Then, in the next instant, Lucas pulled his gaze from hers and walked away.


	6. How to Save a Life

_Hey guys, I know this delay has been insanely long, but my week's been busy; a lot of papers and projects due before Thanksgiving break, since finals begin pretty much right after we come back. I apologize for the wait, but I hope it's worth it. You guys are amazing reviewers, every one seriously makes my day…so keep it up!_

_Chapter Six_

_Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness  
And I would have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life_

_The Fray, How to Save A Life_

Peyton stepped out of her house and abruptly froze.

They'd painted her driveway. GO HOME, BITCH (their usual statement) was spelled out, the paint still dripping in some places, angry and red.

Her stomach knotted just a little, and she stood rooted in place for a couple seconds, staring at the message. Then, Peyton looked away, shaking her head a little as though she could get rid of the mental image, before heading to her car and heading to school.

It had been two and a half weeks since Rachel had revealed the secret. Two and a half weeks since she's spoken to Lucas.

School was brutal. She stayed after one day for two hours, relentlessly scrubbing at her locker so the word 'bitch' was more or less illegible; it was repainted by lunch the following day.

Insults were hurled at Peyton wherever she went; she would get shoved or even tripped in the hallways, glared at in class; a girl had 'accidentally' knocked her water bottle onto an essay Peyton was writing in study hall.

Nothing so far had been monumentally out of hand. But all together, it became draining and hurtful. Peyton would go days without speaking to another person.

She had never thought of herself as weak; back at her old school, she'd had no problem throwing a biting retort back at anyone who deserved it, and she'd even gotten into a brief brawl with the ex-girlfriend of her then-boyfriend at a house party.

Something about this was different; there were too many people to fight back against; Peyton knew it would fruitless. So she simply took whatever they did, counting each excruciatingly long minute she had to be inside that building, until she could escape, hiding out in her house, shut off from the world.

LPLPLPLPLP

"Anything new?"

Haley closed her locker and spun to look at Lucas. She sighed impatiently, "Why don't you just ask her?"

Lucas ignored this statement, staring at his best friend imploringly, "_Haley_."

"Fine. I heard Rachel…she asked Peyton last class how she liked her driveway."

Lucas' eyebrows shot up. "Meaning?"

"I don't_ know, _Luke, I didn't ask her to elaborate, and Peyton just ignored her. If you want me to guess, they probably treated it like her locker."

Lucas cursed under his breath. "I'll go there during lunch, then."

They began to walk to their second period class, and Haley said, "You don't have to do that, Luke. It's not like you did it."

"I know," he said shortly.

Haley sighed, "Fine, but I don't get why you'll do that but you won't even talk to her."

Lucas looked away. "She doesn't deserve what they're doing to her, Haley."

"I know," Haley assured him hastily. "But-"

"It's complicated, alright?" Lucas snapped, and Haley instantly grew quiet.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

"Hey, Sawyer."

Peyton tensed momentarily, steeling herself for whatever venomous comment was coming, until Nathan caught up to her, smiling.

"How's it going?"

Dryly, Peyton answered, "This is the first time I've spoken since yesterday, what do you think?"

Nathan felt a pang of sympathy for the blonde. For the past week, he'd tried to seek her out every day, just to talk a little. It was partially because he felt genuine sympathy for her situation, and partially because Lucas had asked him to, the previous week.

_"Good game, man." Nathan slapped his brother lightly on the shoulder. "We're going all the way, I can feel it."_

_"Yeah." Lucas answered, distracted. They were about to head the locker room just after the first playoff game, and the fans were spilling out of the gym. Lucas was scanning the crowd._

_Nathan followed his gaze, unable to pinpoint anyone of interest. He looked at his brother for a moment before asking carefully, "Did Peyton come?"_

_Lucas' gaze snapped from the dispersing crowd to Nathan. "What? Oh. I-I don't think so." He looked down and mumbled, "I don't see why she'd do that to herself."_

_Nathan sighed. "Yeah…They've been pretty ruthless."_

_"I know," he said quietly._

_Nathan hesitated, then began, "Have you at least talked-"_

_"No." Lucas interjected. "I…" He met his brother's gaze, his expression pained. "I can't be around her, I can't talk to her without…not knowing that we can't…you know…" Lucas' voice trailed off._

_"I get it." Nathan assured him quietly._

_Lucas' voice grew intent. "So you have to."_

_Nathan's looked at his brother blankly. "I have to…?"_

_"You have to talk to her," he begged, eyes pleading. "Just….talk. Be nice to her. Make sure she's okay. Please?"_

"What have they done today?"

Peyton hesitated. For some reason, she was almost embarrassed to admit they'd gotten her driveway, as though she should have somehow protected her house. Instead, she shrugged and attempted a dismissive tone to reply, "Nothing major. The usual name calling, trying to trip me. Acting like first graders, basically."

Nathan winced a little. He could tell Peyton was trying to appear flippant and unconcerned, but he could also tell it was slowly wearing her down. He impulsively put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently. "It'll get better," he told her seriously.

Peyton sighed. "Maybe." After a pause, she asked hesitantly, "How's Lucas?"

What Nathan wanted to say was 'He's worried about you' or maybe even 'He misses you'. More than anything else, that was what Peyton needed to hear.

Instead, he only said, "He's alright, I think."

Peyton looked at him for a moment, as though waiting for more; when Nathan didn't add anything, she nodded a little.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas was nearly late for his afternoon classes; he'd spent his lunch hour in Peyton's driveway, working relentlessly to make the paint disappear. The most he had been able to do was make the message fade some, and make it indecipherable in certain places.

He was frustrated, a mood that did not bode well for Rachel, who passed him in the hallway and chirped cheerfully, "Hey Luke!"

Luke stopped walking abruptly. Her apparent cheeriness only made him angrier; as though all that grief and guilt that had made her stay out of school for so long after Brooke's death had been assuaged simply by finding a scapegoat.

Lucas turned and grabbed Rachel's arm. She raised her eyebrows at him, confused. "What?"

"Leave her alone," Lucas snarled through clenched teeth.

Feigning innocence, Rachel asked, "Who exactly?"

Lucas leaned closer, his eyes narrowed in a way to show her he wasn't playing games. "_Peyton_. Stay away from Peyton. Stay away from her house. Just stay away." Rachel merely smiled indulgently, Lucas' anger growing. "Damn it, Rachel, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you think Brooke would _appreciate _this? Do you think she'd _approve_ of what you're doing?!"

Rachel's smile dropped and she glared icily at him. "Maybe you should ask yourself the same question." Without another word, she turned and headed down the hallway.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Peyton got home that afternoon the find the paint on the driveway faded and smeared. The driveway was wet around the area, and a sponge was lying in the grass nearby.

She couldn't figure out who could have tried to clean it. The only person who was actually being nice to her lately was Nathan Scott; still, Peyton didn't see his sympathy extending quite this far; and even if it did, he hadn't left school all day: she'd seen him at lunch, eating at his usual table with Haley.

A fleeting thought came in to her mind, but Peyton didn't let herself dwell on it. Lucas was so angry he wouldn't even look at her; much less speak to her, and _much_ take time to come scrub off her driveway.

Peyton moved inside the house, the usual rush of relief hitting her as soon as she closed the door.

Retreating to her bedroom, Peyton turned on music and started to draw.

An hour later, she was completely immersed in what she was doing when there was a sudden thump against her window. Whirling, Peyton's eyes zeroed in on the cause; an egg was splattered against her bedroom window.

Peyton's mouth fell agape; for a moment, pure anger choked her. Twice now they had come to her house.

Another egg hit, and Peyton leaped up, adrenaline pumping, ready to run downstairs and fight back.

Running past a window in the living room, however, Peyton got a glimpse outside and stopped. It looked like the whole cheerleading squad and then some had shown up.

The fight rapidly draining out of her, Peyton turned again and went back upstairs. She put on headphones with the volume up, desperate not to hear the consistent thumps and cracks against her windows, just waiting until it was over.

LPLPLPLPLP

The next day, Peyton was leaving Calculus when Mr. Kidd, the teacher, called, "Miss Sawyer? Could I see you for a minute?"

She nodded mutely, hanging back and approaching his desk.

"It's about your last test…" He slid a paper across the desk; an F was marked at the time, in the same angry red as the paint on her driveway. Mr. Kidd looked her, his expression concerned, "What happened there, Peyton?"

Peyton's mouth was dry; she hadn't really spoken all day. It was amazing how much she noticed things like that now. "I-I don't really…my old school, we'd _just_ started on derivatives when I left…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Which could be problematic trying to use the Second Derivative Rule," Mr. Kidd finished. "Understandable." He fixed her with a questioning stare. "Why didn't you say anything, if you didn't understand what I was teaching?"

Peyton shrugged, her face reddening. She spent most of her days in school trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

After a pause, Mr. Kidd said kindly, "Well, it's alright. I'm going to set you up with a tutor, and in a week or two we can schedule a retest. How does that sound?"

"A tutor?"

He nodded, "Yes, Tree Hill has an excellent tutorial program. The students in it are great…" He made a note on a pad. "Why don't you go by the Tutor Center after school today? I'll call ahead and have someone assigned, and you can set up a schedule." When Peyton didn't object, he added, "You know where it is?"

She could only nod mutely. She did not want to be stuck with another student, one on one, for any length of time. It wasn't just the cheerleaders who hated her; they were simply the most persistent.

There was a fluttery panic in her chest by that afternoon when she walked into the Tutor Center. There were only a few students inside, all of whom seemed to be already occupied. Peyton hovered awkwardly in the door until she heard a voice behind her say, "Peyton?"

She turned. Haley James Scott was standing there, backpack on, cheerleading bag in hand. "I'm your tutor?"

"You're…what?"

Haley moved into the center, setting her things down on the nearest table. "Your tutor? Mr. Kidd, right? Calculus?"

Peyton blinked at her for a second, then began shaking her head. "No way."

She turned to go, Haley protesting, "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

Haley's voice was calm as she said, "Look, derivatives are practically _the_ essential foundation for most of calculus, so trust me, you don't want to do that."

Peyton didn't relent. "Then have them get me someone else."

Haley sighed. "Peyton, I can help you-"

"I'm sure you can!" Peyton interjected angrily. "You and all you little cheerleading friends could stay away from my house and back the hell off, but you're not going to do that, are you, so this is a waste of time."

"Hey, I had nothing to do with any of that, okay? So don't group me in with them, because I wouldn't do that." Peyton made a skeptical noise, so Haley added, "Look, I know you didn't kill Brooke. I know it wasn't your fault, everyone heard Rachel was speeding and ran a red light. I don't blame you for any of that."

The frustration and anger of the past few days seemed to be boiling over, because Peyton couldn't resist retorting sarcastically, "Oh, right, because you've been so friendly."

There was a beat of silence, and then Haley said slowly, "Right. Listen...I only thought you should have told Lucas the truth."

"I know that."

"Well, that was my only problem with it. And before all that…I was just looking out for my best friend. And it was…weird, seeing Lucas with someone else, because Brooke was one of my closest friends."

Peyton sighed. "Which means Rachel is, too, I guess."

Sitting down at the table, Haley smiled wryly, "Actually, no. Rachel went through a little 'married guys' phase, which had her hitting on Nathan pretty much all that time. So I'm not the biggest Rachel fan."

Surprised, Peyton met her eyes. "Seriously?"

Haley nodded. "Yeah. I tolerated her, because of the squad and because Brooke wanted me to. But Rachel…she's selfish and arrogant and she only thinks about herself….which I'm guessing you're figuring out first hand."

Peyton nodded mutely. After a brief hesitation, she sat down at the table across from Haley, who smiled.

"Alright. We can start now. There's a game tonight, so no practice. You have your book?" After a second of watching Peyton fumble around in her backpack for her Calculus book, Haley said quietly, "One thing...Brooke wouldn't have…she wouldn't have liked what they're doing to you. I just don't want you to think she was like them."

Peyton met her eyes. "It's okay. I won't."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas loved basketball.

When he played the game, it was all he had to focus on; it came easily to him, and it was fun. He didn't even have to think about it; the skills came naturally.

Right after Brooke's death, the game had been an escape, a solace; the court had been the only place things still felt normal, when people treated him the same.

Now, it was a way of releasing the anger and frustration he had been feeling constantly for the past few weeks, directing all that fury toward energy and adrenaline on the court, toward determination to win.

The Ravens had a fairly comfortable lead by fourteen, and it was late in the third quarter. They were still early in the play-offs, but everyone had confidence and high hopes for the championship.

There was only a minute left in the period when it happened. The Ravens were moving back on the court after a time out from the other team, who were still lingering. Lucas was walking with Nathan behind two other players, who were discussing Kyle Griffith, a player on the other team who had fouling relentlessly, often under the ref's radar.

"I'm gonna kill that guy," muttered Jeff, one of the recent victims of Griffith.

Ryan Thompson, their other teammate, replied, "Should get Scott's little whore to run him down with a car. Fucking bitch would take care of it."

Lucas, who had been about to veer off, spun around. This sort of joke had been common lately, but it was the first time Lucas had witnessed it firsthand.

Nathan glanced back at his brother, who was frozen, glowering fiercely at Thompson's back. "Luke…"

There was a roaring in Lucas' ears that seemed to drown out his brother's warning, drown out the ref's whistle and the sudden noise from the crowd that indicated the game was on again.

The ball had been in the other team's possession for all of two seconds when Lucas leaped forward, tackling Ryan Thompson to the ground.

Lucas' fist crashed against Thompson's jaw. Again. Thompson was yelling profanity and thrashing, but Lucas ignored it. Nathan's arms seized his brother from behind, roughly trying to pull im back, but Lucas fought it. His knees were digging into the Thompsons stomach at this point, and he punched him again, drawing blood from his nose.

"You fucker!" he meant to yell, but it came out a strangled gasp.

More hands grasped him, bodies forcing their way between their teammates. Thompson leaped up, furious, and had to be held back himself from lunging at Lucas, who was being dragged backwards.

The ref's whistle screeched. "He's out of here, coach." He barked at a furious Whitey.

Nathan stared at his brother. Lucas' eyes were wild, his expression almost animalistic. Even now, he hadn't taken his eyes off Thompson, as though he was simply waiting to be released so he could pick up where he left off.

Whitey's hand suddenly grasped the back of Lucas' neck, his grip tight, walking him purposefully off the court. "Locker room, now. Change and wait in my office." Lucas didn't move, or make indication of hearing. "Now, damn it!" Whitey barked.

After a moment's pause, Lucas turned and walked slowly into the locker room.

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas sat alone in the chair in front of Whitey's desk for what seemed like a long time. He could make out occasional cheers from the gym, as well as the mass movement of feet that indicated the game was over.

When the office door opened and Whitey walked in, he was frowning. The coach said nothing as he walked around his desk, sat down, and stared at Lucas.

After the silence had gone on for too long, Lucas shifted his weight uncomfortably and asked, "Um…what was the final score?"

"I don't know if you deserve to know." Whitey answered, every syllable reverberating with disapproval. "You could have just cost us our shot at the championship!"

"You still had Nathan."

Raising his voice, Whitey yelled, "You're part of the team, damn it! Come to think of it, so is Ryan Thompson. God knows you fighting in this gym is hardly a surprise, although usually it's your brother on the other end. But this wasn't nearly as much a fight as it was an attack!" Lucas was quiet, unable to dispute this. "Well, do you have anything to say?!"

Lucas looked down for a few minutes, then met his coach's eyes. "No, sir."

Whitey's frustration was evident in his eyes. "Well, explain yourself, damn it! Lucas, why did you do it?"

He averted his gaze momentarily, then said, "What difference does it make?"

Whitey sighed heavily, lowering his voice. "It makes a difference to me." After a beat of silence, Whitey said, "Lucas, I know you've been having a hard time since the accident…Lord knows I understand how you feel-"

"Stop!" Lucas burst out with suddenly. "Just…please, don't…you're making me feel worse, Coach. It's not Brooke, she's not why I've been…" He raked his hands through his hair, searching for words. "It's someone else. And that jackass Thompson…" Lucas' face hardened. "He had it coming. All of them, everyone in this school…Jesus, they don't know what they're doing…"

White leaned forward, his voice suddenly low and concerned, "You want to tell me what's going on, son?"

To his embarrassment, Lucas felt tears stinging his eyes, and he ducked his head, staring fixedly at the edge of Whitey's desk. Whitey waited patiently for him to find his voice. "It's...it's Peyton. She's…she's a friend, and she's new and she…" He squeezed his eyes shut; just saying her name hurt. "She was driving the other car in the accident, the one that hit Rachel and Brooke. But it wasn't her fault, it was Rachel's…but now everyone's…" His voice cracked. "Everyone's blaming her, and they hate her, and they won't leave her alone. And I-I can't be there for her, I _can't_…but they need to stop, because it's not fair, and Thompson…he doesn't even know her, Coach, and he called her things, and he _deserved_ it!!"

Whitey scrutinized the boy's face; he could see how deeply he cared for this girl, how much this was hurting him. So in a quiet, almost gentle voice, he said, "Alright. It's alright." Lucas nodded a little; he was breathing hard. After a pause, Whitey said, "You're suspended from the game next week. Refs nearly insisted on it." He reached out and clapped a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Come back ready to play. We've still got a championship to win."

Lucas stood; an apology was sticking in is too-tight throat. Just as he was at the door, Whitey interrupted, "Oh, and Lucas?" He half turned, waiting. "There's never a time when we _can't_ be there for a person we care about who needs us."

LPLPLPLPLP

Haley and Peyton had been tutoring for about a week. It was going well, academically speaking; Peyton was smart and understood the material; she was simply behind. Other than that, Haley looked at it as a major challenge.

Peyton rarely spoke during their sessions. Haley talked away, explaining rules and methods, and Peyton remained unresponsive except for head nods and the occasional "Okay." It made for an effortless tutoring session; however, Haley found the silences disconcerting. Besides that, there were times when she could clearly see the defeated sadness in Peyton's eyes, and it made Haley's insides twists with a strange mixture of sympathy and guilt.

The morning after the game, Haley purposefully walked right up to Peyton's desk before first period began, ignoring the stares of the rest of the class. "Hey."

Peyton glanced up, surprised. "Hi."

"I graded your practice quiz yesterday, and you got a 93." She paused, but Peyton barely reacted. "A couple more sessions and I think you'll be caught up and ready for that retest."

Peyton smiled hesitantly back. "Thanks, Haley."

"No problem. If you want we can meet over lunch."

"Works for me."

"Cool. See ya then."

Haley moved back to her desk in the front, where she was greeted with a sweet smile from Teresa. "Tutoring Peyton, Haley?"

She gave her a challenging look. "Yeah, I am."

"Figures she'd be a dumbass."

"Can you teach her how to brake?"

Haley threw a glance at Peyton over her shoulder. She was pretending to stare at her book, but Haley could tell from the way her body had gone rigid and tense that she'd heard every word; which of course was exactly what they'd intended.

Haley rolled her eyes and glared at Rachel and the others. "Grow the hell up already."

LPLPLPLPLP

At lunch, the two of them sat in the Tutor Center, sandwiches next to math books and notebook paper. Peyton was working on an example problem and Haley was eating, when Peyton's voice startled her, "How was the game?" Haley was momentarily stunned that Peyton had spoke, so much so that she couldn't comprehend the actual question at first. Peyton's brow furrowed and she added, "There was a game last night, rigt?"

"Oh, yeah! There was."

"So how was it?"

Haley laughed a little, humorlessly. "Well, we _won_…" Her voice suggesting a long story.

After a pause, Peyton prompted, "_But_…."

Haley mentally wrestled with herself briefly before saying, "Lucas got into a fight."

Peyton's eyes widened. "What? Really?"

Nodding, Haley continued, "Actually, it wasn't much of a fight. He pretty much attacked a guy…on our team."

"Wow." Peyton was quiet for a moment. She almost couldn't picture Lucas doing something like that; but then she had a flash mental image of him knocking over the shelf of filmstrips after she'd told him the truth, that brief flash of raw fury that had crossed his face, and she could imagine it a little easier. "Why?"

Haley didn't answer for a beat, then admitted, "You."

"What?" Peyton stared. "What do you mean?"

Haley shrugged. "I wasn't close enough to hear it, but Nathan said Ryan Thompson was mouthing off and Lucas heard and went crazy."

"What did he say?"

Haley's eyes flitted away. She shrugged awkwardly, "I don't know, Peyton. Some feeble comment."

Peyton nodded slightly, bending over her work again. Haley watched her with a pang of sadness; she couldn't even imagine dealing with what Peyton was at the moment.

After a moment, Peyton put down her pencil. "Finished. Listen…why would Lucas do that? Fight the guy over what he said?"

Haley stared at her, genuinely baffled. "What do you mean, why? Peyton, he hates what they're doing to you." When Peyton continued to stare at her, blank, Haley added without thinking, "He's constantly asking Nathan and I how you are, or what they've done. He's tried to say something to Rachel a few times. He even went to your house and tried to wash the paint off your driveway, as soon as he heard-"

"That was _Lucas_?!" Peyton whispered, genuinely shocked.

"Of course!"

"I just…" Peyton's voice shook a little. "He won't even _talk _to me, he doesn't even…we have a class together, and he won't look at me."

"I know." Haley paused, choosing her words carefully. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to protect you."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Peyton was rummaging in her locker that afternoon, her books folded in her left arm, when suddenly they were shoved out of her loose grip and spread on the floor.

She turned. Teresa and Sara, another cheerleader, were smirking. "Dropped something, bitch."

Peyton sighed tiredly. "Mature," she muttered, bending down to pick up her stuff. As soon as she did, however, she felt something heavy hit her back, followed by something else. She looked up; Rachel had been standing behind her, and had just emptied the contents of her locker onto the floor.

Grimacing, Peyton turned around, willing herself to ignore them, gathering her books and loose papers. They were speaking, but she was trying not to hear them; until, that is, she picked up some murmur of 'nice drawing', followed by a sharp rip.

Peyton stood up quickly, turning, just in time to see the dark angel drawing, _Ellie's_ drawing, now in two pieces, be crumpled by Rachel and dropped to the floor.

For a moment Peyton felt dizzy; she felt sick with rage as she stared at the crumpled pieces.

Ellie's arrival and the revelation that Peyton was adopted had coincided unpleasantly with her grandmother being sick. However, after a long ordeal in which she'd tried to ignore this second mother, Peyton had found out Ellie had cancer; that was around the time Peyton's grandmother died, and somehow this had made her decide to give Ellie a chance, get to know her.

During the one job her father had taken between her grandmother's death and the move to Tree Hill, Ellie had moved in with Peyton.

She had died just before the move. Peyton had her records, her leather jacket, a cancer bracelet, and that drawing.

The drawing that was now in crumpled pieces on the floor of the high school hallway, being stepped on by Rachel and her cronies.

Peyton looked up, met Rachel's eyes for a brief second, then punched her in the face as hard as she could, mustering up every ounce of anger and frustration she'd endured over the past month of bullying and using it for that punch. Rachel crumpled instantly, and Peyton was about to leap forward, hit her more, _punish_ her, but the instant Rachel hit the ground, Peyton was ambushed. Someone shoved her hard against the locker, someone pinned each arm back, someone slapped her. She couldn't see what was happening, she couldn't move; but all she could think about was how many people were stepping on the drawing, tearing it more.

"Hey!" She heard a forceful male voice yell. Suddenly her arm was released, and then Nathan was there, Haley at his side, difficultly moving between Peyton and the crowd. "Get out of the way, clear out. Show's over, alright?" Nathan touched Peyton's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Peyton didn't answer. The group was backing up, dispersing; she caught a glimpse of Rachel, surrounded by her minions, hand gripping her face, contorted with pain.

Peyton suddenly bent down, her trembling hands picking up the pieces of the drawing. Haley and Nathan exchanged a look, and then they too bent down, gathering up Peyton's books and papers, while she sat still, staring, devastated, down at the crinkled bits of paper cupped in her hands.

She didn't even realize she'd started to cry until a few of the tears dropped onto the remnants of the picture, but then she was sobbing quietly, her legs giving out beneath her until she was sitting.

Haley suddenly appeared next to her. "Peyton, what is it? Are you hurt?"

Gasping for breath, Peyton shook her head. "My…they…" She couldn't talk. So she held out the bits of paper, which she'd attempted to smooth. There were three main pieces now.

Haley squinted at the papers in Peyton's hand until it dawned on her that it was some sort of drawing they'd torn. She remembered Lucas, early on, before the truth about the accident had come out, raving about Peyton's art. "Wow, Peyton that…that really sucks. But, hey, I bet you could draw another one, I know it's a pain, but-"

Peyton shook her head vigorously and choked out, "I didn't draw it…my birthmother…she did….she gave it t-to me before she died." Peyton took another shuddering breath, pressing one hand to her eyes; she was crying big, gulping sobs that made her feel about four years old. "I don't…I don't have anything else she drew…that was all…"

Haley looked at her husband, eyes widening in horror. She had thought she hated Rachel before, when she was throwing herself at Nathan. But she had been wrong; she hated her now. And Haley wanted to apologize for anything catty or judgmental she had ever said to Lucas; he'd been right, Peyton didn't deserve this.

She had no words that could possibly make Peyton feel better, so after a moment, Haley impulsively wrapped her arms around the blonde girl. Peyton stiffened initially, surprised. After a moment, though, she relaxed a little, and let Haley hug her as she cried. Haley hoped it worked as a silent apology, a silent promise to be a friend from that moment on.

The halls had cleared; Nathan wordlessly finished putting Peyton's books back in her locker, and then he looked at Haley. "I gotta go to practice," he told her quietly.

Haley nodded and waved him on. Nathan walked off, purposeful.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas was hovering near the gym, waiting for Nathan. When he finally saw his younger brother walk up, Lucas approached him quickly. "Hey, Nate…if I'm suspended next game do I still get to practice?" Nathan was quiet. Lucas forced a smile, "I figured you'd know."

Nathan regarded him seriously, angrily. Then he shoved past. Lucas followed him, as he'd known he would. "Okay, so you're mad about the fight?"

That was all the invitation Nathan needed. He turned. "The fight? You think I give a shit about the fight, man? It was pretty stupid timing, but the guy had it coming. I was there, I heard what he said."

Confused, Lucas raised his eyebrows. "Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is you and the way you're treating Peyton! I don't get you, Luke! You'll get in a fight over her, you go to her house to fix something you didn't even do…but you won't even fucking _look_ at her, man! You don't talk to her."

Lucas averted his gaze, addressing Nathan's shoes. "It's complicated!"

"Yeah, I know it is!" He yelled harshly. "And I'm not pretending to understand what you're going through here. But what Peyton's going through is worse! She _needs_ you, and you're not there for her, not in the way that counts!"

"But-"

"No buts, man, I don't want to hear your bullshit. I know it's hard to be around her because you've decided you can't be together. But it's time for you to stop being so damn selfish! Because she's _breaking_, Luke. They are fucking _breaking _her, and Haley and me aren't enough. She needs _you_. And you love her, you know you do, so you need to step the hell up and _be there_."

Without waiting for a reply, Nathan pushed past him and headed into the gym.

_Alright, so that's all for this chapter. I know there wasn't any direct Lucas/Peyton, but don't worry, that's about to change. And I hope this was enjoyable anyway. I knew I was writing this as a filler between events in a way, but I ended up actually liking it. Of course, what do I know, I wrote the thing. Would love to know what you think, so review away!_

_Also, the next update should be much faster, because I start Thanksgiving break tomorrow, and I'm going to try to get a little ahead of myself in preparation for finals. _


	7. Gravity

_Okay, guys. I feel the need to do some groveling. Obviously. It's been over a month since an update, something I NEVER want to have happen again. I got really deep into finals preparation and finals themselves, and my break so far has been hectic, too, getting ready for Christmas and catching up with all my friends and all that fun stuff. I'm sorry I've been neglecting the story, but I hope this chapter, chock full of moments I've been planning since the beginning of the story, not to mention longer than usual, will at least partially make up for it. The next two weeks of my break are going to be pretty relaxed and lazy, so I'm going to make a point to utilize the time for quick updates. My severe Leyton withdrawal should help._

_Song pimp moment: The title song of this chapter is gorgeous and amazing and so very LP. IF you haven't heard it, you should._

_Warning: A part of this chapter is rated __**M**__._

_Chapter Seven: Gravity_

_Something always brings me back to you.  
It never takes too long.  
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone. You hold me without touch.  
You keep me without chains.  
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain._

_  
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.  
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.  
But you're on to me and all over me._

_You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.  
When I thought that I was strong.  
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone._

_Sara Bareilles, Gravity_

He stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as though ready to move in one direction or the other; either up the rest of the walk or back to his car, which he'd parked by the curb several houses down, a covert move which made him feel extremely foolish.

Lucas' eyes inadvertently zeroed in on her bedroom window. The light was on, and every once in awhile he could convince himself he saw a flash of movement. The longer he stood there, the more he physically ached to walk, _run _actually, the rest of the way up the walk, burst into the house and up the stairs, and go to her.

When he tried to think of what to do when he got there, though, he hit a wall. Apologize? Forgive? Pretend the past few weeks hadn't happened? Ask questions? Kiss her senseless? The latter was the least practical of all, but it was the easiest, the most pleasant, for him to imagine.

"Stalker."

The voice, from behind, startled him, and for a second he went rigid. Then he whirled around, met with a smirk, and the heat instantly rose to his cheeks. "I was…I was just-"

Haley cut him off, "You were stalking. Creeping. Lurking."

"I…" His voice trailed off feebly, his eyes darting back to the house momentarily. Attempting to recover, he turned back to his friend. "Why are _you_ here?"

Haley's eyebrows shot up. " I came to see Peyton." After a beat, she added, "We're friends."

He almost smiled at the final statement's 'no-duh' sort of tone, as though Haley and Peyton's friendship was a long established relationship rather than a very recent development; it had been just yesterday that the disastrous incident in the hallway had occurred, since Haley had vowed to herself to be a good friend to Peyton, since Nathan had yelled at Lucas to start being there for her.

He had tried. Now, though, he hesitated only a brief second before forcing a smile and walking past Haley, muttering, "I'll see you later."

Sighing, Haley turned and called him back, "Lucas." He turned. Haley nodded back toward the house. "Come with me. Or you go by yourself. I know she'd rather see-"

He cut her off before she could finish the thought. "No, you got it." Before she could talk him out of it, Lucas walked hurriedly down the sidewalk toward his car.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton muttered curses as she fumbled with the roll of Scotch tape. The pieces of Ellie's drawing were spread in front of her, upside down and pieced together, like a blank, wrinkled puzzle.

She had been too drained to do this yesterday, and had left the drawing pieces scattered on the kitchen table. Now though, after a day of attempting to quell the desire to physically attack Rachel, she had come home with a singular desire to try to fix at least _one thing_ they'd broken.

Her fingers shook slightly as she attempted to aim precisely. She breathed a sigh of relief as she successfully reattached two of the main pieces along the fault lines.

Now, she turned her attention to the third largest section, and was about to press down a piece of tape when the doorbell rang.

"Shit." Her hand slipped and the unattached pieces scattered. Groaning in frustration, Peyton stood and headed to the front door, the quickest route through the living room.

She slowed suddenly, her eyes scanning the room. She rarely spent time there, and she hadn't bothered cleaning up since she and Lucas' Regression. It felt like another lifetime ago, but it was only a day before Rachel returned to school, a day before she'd told Lucas the truth and the world had come crashing down.

The Guess Who game was still shoved against the wall (they hadn't bothered to put it back in the box after Peyton had crushed him), a deck of cards sprinkled on the carpet in front of the television, the boxes of the videotapes stacked to the side, and blankets piled on the couch.

The doorbell sounded again, and Peyton tore her gaze away, hurrying out of the living room and opening the door.

"Hi!" Haley said brightly. After a beat, her smile faded and her brow furrowed. "You okay?"

Peyton recovered quickly. "Yeah, fine. Sorry. Come on in…"

Haley followed her into the house, eyes roaming as Peyton led her into the kitchen, where she instantly resumed taping the picture. "Just be a minute," she muttered.

Haley felt another stab of sadness as she watched Peyton line up the pieces with meticulous precision. After a long moment of silence, she said conversationally, "You see Rachel's face today? That bruise is going to look really nice in the yearbook photos…"

Peyton nodded a little, unsmiling. "Yeah." After a moment's silence, Peyton said ,"You don't have to do this."

Her voice had been so quiet, barely audible, that it took Haley a moment to assert that Peyton had been talking to her, not to herself, even though she hadn't lifted her eyes from the table. "Do what?"

She waved a hang vaguely. "This. Hang out with me. I mean…" She shrugged uncomfortably, finally meeting Haley's eyes with an apologetic look. "I know they aren't going to like it. And they've been your friends for a long time."

Haley shook her head dismissively. "They were barely my friends, honestly. And definitely not now. I can't even believe how _cruel_ everyone's being…"

Peyton looked at her, a trace of skepticism still evident. "Are you sure? I mean…you were really sweet yesterday, you and Nathan both…" Her eyes flitted to the drawing. "But I know the whole…dead mom thing tends to get the sympathy." She looked away again, embarrassed, and mumbled, "If you want to go you don't have to feel bad."

Impulsively, Haley reached out and put a hand on Peyton's arm, waiting until she looked up to speak carefully, "I don't want to go. " She smiled reassuringly.

Tentatively returning the smile, Peyton hastened to add, "I know Brooke was your friend, so I would get it if you felt weird."

Haley looked genuinely confused at this statement. "Why would it be weird?"

Peyton suddenly trained her gaze intensely back to the drawing in front of her, in spite of the fact that she'd just finished the job. After a pause, she muttered something incoherent that seemed to include the word 'Lucas'.

Haley smiled indulgently. "What was that now?" Peyton didn't answer; sighing, Haley added, "Luke's kind of being an idiot right now, but-" She stopped abruptly at the complete surprise on Peyton's face. "What? He is."

Peyton looked away, and was quiet for a long moment. She was blinking rather rapidly, and when she finally spoke it was in a low, hesitant voice, "I miss him."

Haley thought of Lucas, just moments ago, standing outside Peyton's house, clearly wrestling with himself. "He misses you, too. I can tell. He's just…" She shrugged helplessly. "He thinks too much."

"He thinks it's weird. Hanging out with me, talking to me…he thinks it's beyond weird. He thinks it's…wrong." She sighed shakily. "I don't want him to hate me."

"_Peyton._ He doesn't hate you, you have to know that."

Peyton nodded a little. After another moment of silence, she looked at Haley, expression suddenly sheepish. "Sorry. I know I'm _great_ company right now."

Haley smiled easily. "You're fine."

"I'll stop now," Peyton promised. "What do you want to, uh…do?"

Haley couldn't help laughing at the awkwardness in Peyton's voice. "I don't care, whatever you want."

Smiling wryly, Peyton commented, "I feel like I've forgotten how normal people hang out."

"Well, what did you and Luke used to do?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Haley made a face. "Forget I said that."

Peyton's face reddened instantly at the suggestion, and Haley took felt a surge of discomfort. She really did want to be Peyton's friend now, and she honestly didn't blame her for anything that happened to Brooke, but thinking of her and Lucas romantically was still strange.

Peyton broke the awkward silence after a moment. "It wasn't really like that. I mean…he just kissed me once."

Haley looked up, curious in spite of herself. "He did?"

She nodded once, then hurriedly added, "He said right after that we couldn't do that again for awhile." Peyton's throat tightened painfully. "I guess that's not going to happen again."

Haley grimaced sympathetically. "Look, for what it's worth, I think the reason he's staying away has way less to do with him being mad at you than…him liking you so much." Peyton made a face as if to refute this, so Haley continued quickly, "I mean it. He's afraid of being around you because it would make it harder…God, he told me he knew the two of you were supposed to be together, but now…it's like he's afraid of betraying Brooke, or something…" She trailed off, the look on Peyton's face made it clear she wasn't making her feel any better. "I'm sorry. It'll get better."

Peyton made herself smile. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe."

The uncomfortable silence settled again, and Haley scrambled for a change of subject. "Hey, do you want to do one more tutoring session tomorrow before your makeup test Friday?"

Peyton glanced at her distractedly. "What? Oh, yeah, sure that's fine…after school in the Tutor Center?"

"Can't, I have practice."

"I can meet you after that."

"I'm working at the café after that, until seven thirty. You wanna just meet me there after my shift? We could eat while we study."

Peyton hesitated, "I don't know…"

Realizing her problem, Haley amended, "I can make sure Lucas isn't there, if you want." Privately, she thought those two really needed to talk, but at this point Lucas should be the one to initiate it.

Peyton smiled a little. "How?"

She shrugged. "I'll think of something."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas and Haley walked out of their third period class the next day, and were walking in companionable silence before Haley ventured, "About yesterday-"

"What?"

Haley froze momentarily. She didn't know what to ask or say. Finally, she settled on, "You should have gone in."

Lucas kept his face forward, and was quiet as they walked another ten paces down the hallway; Haley had decided that he was going to be frustrating and not acknowledge the statement, when he simply said very quietly, "I know."

After a moment, he started to veer off, and Haley stopped him, confused. "What are you doing? Aren't you coming to lunch?" Since he'd stopped sitting with Peyton, Lucas had gone back to his old routine; he and Haley usually met Nathan in the cafeteria after third period, and the three of them ate together.

He looked back at her, shrugging casually. "I have to go by my locker first…but you shouldn't wait for me." At her questioning look, he added, "You should sit with Peyton." His expression g became very grim. "She's been sitting by herself…makes her an easy target." He smiled dryly, "Besides, Nathan's barely talking to me."

It was true; since their confrontation two days ago, Nathan hadn't been speaking to Lucas much. Haley smiled a little, "He just wants you to get the message."

"Believe me I got it." He started off, waving at her as he went. "I'll see you later, Hales."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas opened the door and was caught off guard by the person standing on the other side. "If you're here to yell some more, don't waste your time. I already know you're right."

Nathan grinned a little. "Good to know you're figuring that out." He jerked his head at his car, parked outside Luke's house. "C'mon. We're going to the River Court."

Slightly bewildered at his brother's change in attitude, Lucas grabbed a sweatshirt and followed him outside.

They didn't talk much on the way to the River Court. Lucas shot continuous glances at his brother, who seemed perfectly pleasant and casual even in his silence. Still, Lucas couldn't help but suspect there was more to this spontaneous trip than basketball.

When they got to the court, they quickly slipped into a relaxed routine of shooting, Nathan chatting away about the past few games.

After a few minutes of this, Nathan finally acknowledged his brother's wary silence. He caught the ball on a rebound and held it, turning to Lucas, suddenly serious. "Listen. I know you think what's going on with you and Peyton is none of my business. I know you think I don't understand. And it's partially true. So I want to apologize if I was a little harsh."

In spite of the obvious sincerity, Lucas felt himself smirking a little. He prompted, "But…?"

Nathan rolled his eyes, grinning a little. Lucas knew him too well. "_But _you asked me to talk to her. And make sure she was okay. And she's not."

He had told himself he wouldn't get angry, but a resentful note still crept into Lucas' voice as he protested, "You think I _want_ Rachel and everyone to do what they're doing to her?"

"It would be easier for her if she had you," Nathan informed him calmly. Lucas looked away. Nathan continued, "Haley told me you were at Peyton's yesterday."

"I didn't go in. I couldn't. I didn't know what to say to her."

"You'll know what to say. You just have to get to her."

LPLPLPLPLP

When Peyton arrived at the café, Haley was still working. She explained somewhat breathlessly that Karen had asked her to work until eight instead. "Do you mind waiting?"

After Haley assured her that Nathan had been enlisted in keeping Lucas busy and away from his mom's café, Peyton agreed amiably to waiting. She settled herself into a booth and got out that nights history homework she'd started at home.

Haley approached her after a minute and asked her if she wanted anything. Peyton ordered a coke, and felt a slight stab in her chest as Haley set the can in front of her; she remembered the day she met Lucas, the second time they'd spoke, when he "stole" for her.

It seemed like a long time ago.

Peyton tried to push these memories away, put on her headphones, and did all she could to focus on her homework.

It had been about fifteen minutes and she was nearly done with her work when she was startled by an arm, snaking around from behind her, and grabbing the second Coke can Haley had just brought.

Peyton turned; Rachel, Bevin, and Teresa were standing there, and as she watched, Rachel calmly tipped the coke can forward, soaking Peyton's homework and her textbook.

Peyton moved the book out of the way too late. A hot surge of rage moved through her veins momentarily; she was close to standing up and attacking Rachel again before she remembered where she was; she didn't want to create a scene in Karen's Café.

For a moment she could only stare, almost disbelieving at the soaked paper and book in front of her. Then she turned to Rachel, locking eyes. Her voice was a low hiss, "What do you want?"

Rachel leaned forward, playing dumb. "What was that?"

A little louder, Peyton repeated, "What do you _fucking_ want?! What do you want to come of all this?"

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "I thought we've been clear on that. We want you to leave. Forever. Go somewhere you're wanted…if it exists."

"Well you're in for a long wait."

"We'll see." Rachel smirked nastily at her for a second, then tilted the can again, the small amount that was left dripping on Peyton's shirt. Her hands balled into fists, and she was halfway to her feet when she saw Karen walk up behind the cheerleaders and cleared her throat pointedly.

Rachel and the others turned, false smiles instantly in place. "Oh, hello, Ms. Roe."

Karen didn't smile. "Hello. I think it's time for you girls to leave."

"But…" Teresa began to protest, but Karen's icy calm demeanor seemed to quell this.

Instead, they all obeyed, turning and walking together out of the café.

Karen turned her attention to Peyton. "Are you alright?"

Peyton's cheeks were burning, and she was suddenly unable to look the woman in the eye. She hadn't seen Karen, obviously, since before the truth about the accident had come out. She certainly knew now. This was Lucas' mother, whom Brooke Davis had looked at like a mother figure, who had always been cautious but kind with Peyton. Peyton had no idea what she must think of her.

"Peyton?," Karen's tone was gentle. When Peyton still didn't answer, couldn't answer, Karen pulled a napkin dispenser toward them and handed her several, glancing at the spot on her shirt. "That shouldn't be hard to get out. And I'm sure the book won't be too bad once it gets a chance to dry…"

She gave Peyton a smile, her expression so kind and warm and _maternal_ that Peyton was suddenly teetering on the brink of tears. Her chin trembled as the words, "I'm sorry" slipped out unbidden and partially inexplicable.

Karen stopped wiping up the puddle on the table to look Peyton in the eye. "You don't have to be," she said firmly.

After Lucas had gotten into the fight at the basketball game, Karen, like Whitey, had been demanding answers. After awhile of arguing over it, Lucas had caved and filled her in on the whole story, angrily recalling everything Peyton was dealing with.

Karen had almost believed he was exaggerating. It all sounded so unthinkingly cruel, it was hard to imagine. But then Haley, too, just yesterday, had offered the story of another incident, even worse than the others. She begun to believe that maybe Peyton really was being treated as badly as her son said.

And tonight, Karen had been able to confirm this firsthand.

Now, she watched the girl, so utterly defeated. She should have been angry as hell, fighting back against the injustice. Instead, she looked simply burdened, resigned, almost as if she had begun to believe she deserved what was happening.

Karen put a hand over Peyton's, gripping firmly. "They are the ones who are wrong. You understand that, don't you?"

Peyton stared at the table, tears clogging her throat. She knew if so much as opened her mouth to answer Karen, she would burst into tears, so she didn't answer.

Karen was remembering the things Lucas had told her about Peyton. The way she practically lived alone, one parent dead and the other constantly away. The fact that Lucas was the only person who had spoken to her early on. Peyton was alone.

"Peyton? Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"

Peyton shook her head emphatically, the tears spilling forward at last.

In her head, however, she answered Karen's question: _Your son._

LPLPLPLPLP

Two days later, on Friday, Lucas had failed at several other half attempts at approaching Peyton.

That afternoon after school, he headed to his car to get his gym bag for basketball practice. There was a crowd gathered on the other end of the parking lot. Only at his second glance did he realize the crowd was around Peyton's car.

Lucas slammed his car door, a feeling of dread settling on him. His eyes moved over the crowd as he ran closer, and his first instinct was relief when he realized Peyton wasn't among them.

As he drew closer, pushing his way to the front of the crowd, the relief vanished. People had their phones out, taking photos, laughing, congratulating Rachel and a few of her flunkies.

_Leave, Bitch _had been keyed in the passenger side of Peyton's car, large and jagged. Lucas stared, incredulous, as though he expected it to dissolve, as though it was just a figment of his imagination. The crowd quieted slightly, and Lucas turned slowly, facing them. His eyes found Rachel's. She was smirking slightly in that infuriating, mock-casual way.

He seized her arm out of pure instinct. His voice was dangerously low, fury choking him. "What the fuck?" Rachel didn't answer, and the crowd began talking again, still snapping photos with their phone. He raised his voice, "Show's over, get the hell away!" No one moved, and a guy a few feet away from him raised his phone up again.

In a fit of anger, Lucas jerked the phone from his grasp and hurled it across the parking lot. At the subsequent howl of protest, his grabbed the guy by his collar, "I said get the fuck away!"

The guy, released, scampered after his phone. The crowd was quiet again, and Lucas repeated, "Anyone else?"

Finally they dispersed, but he kept his hand on Rachel's arm. Leaning close, he hissed at her, "You can't just…_do _something like this."

"Who said I did it?" She asked with a small smile.

Lucas wasn't having that. "It's destruction of property!"

"_Please_. You really think your little girlfriend is going to report it?"

Lucas' rage was making it hard for him to talk; it was also making it hard for him to remember that he didn't hit girls. "Yeah. And if she doesn't, I will."

"You didn't see me do it. Because I was in the locker room, changing for practice." She started to walk away, but Lucas kept his grip firm and pulled her back.

It felt like he had to force every word from his chest to his throat, but he kept speaking, "Brooke. Brooke wouldn't…she would hate you for this." He had Rachel's attention now; the smirk had vanished. "She always defended you, to Haley and to everyone else who knew you were a worthless _bitch_. She always used the fact that…that when you cared about a person, you were loyal and funny and you stepped up." His chest was heaving. "But it's not about how you treat the people you like. You pick and choose. You are a cold, cruel_ bitch _for this. For the way you're treating her. And even Brooke would see that if she were here."

Angry tears shone in Rachel's eyes as she glared at him. "Brooke was my _best _friend, and she's _gone_. Because of _her_-"

"It's not because of her! And anyway…who's keying _your _car? Because when Brooke died I wanted to blame you, which isn't nearly as much of a stretch, but I never…" He closed his eyes, trying to regain control. When he began talking again, his voice was loud and raw. "Who is keying your _FUCKING CAR_, Rachel????!!! Who's dumping your locker, who's _painting _your _fucking _driveway, who's tripping you in the halls???!!!! Who's making _your _life fucking _miserable?_! _WHO?!"_

He was inches from her face, and Rachel no longer looked smug or angry. She looked genuinely scared.

"Hey, Luke, man...relax." A calming voice sounded from behind, a hand gripped his shoulder. He turned around to see his friend Skills Taylor. He hadn't noticed him in the crowd earlier.

His hands gripped Lucas' shoulders, tugging him back gently. "You're gonna be late for practice, dawg. Go on." Lucas was still staring, wild-eyed, at Rachel. "Go _on_."

Lucas nodded, shoving past Rachel and heading toward the gym.

LPLPLPLPLP

An hour and half later, practice was over, and Lucas still hadn't calmed himself completely. He was standing outside the gym, waiting for Nathan and Haley, when he saw Peyton, her back to him, heading to the parking lot.

He remembered with a start that Haley had mentioned Peyton staying after school for the makeup math test Haley had been tutoring her for. That explained her absence in the parking lot earlier, at least, but it also meant she had no idea what they'd done to her car.

He watched her until she was nearly to the parking lot, and then Lucas began to run after her.

He froze at the edge of the parking lot, when she was halfway across it. He watched her rummage in her purse for her iPod. He watched her look up and notice, he watched her freeze, staring. And he watched her break into a quick run, stand by her car, and touch the words as though she needed to confirm that it was really what it looked like.

And he watched her shoulders drop, watched her hand go shakily up to her face. He watched her stand completely still for about twenty seconds, and then he watched her drive her fist into the top of the car door, her mouth twisting as she struggled not to cry.

Every doubt and fear and uncertainty that had paralyzed him all week was simply gone. "Peyton!"

She looked up, the helpless dismay on her face giving way to shock as he hurried to stand in front of her.

Lucas looked down at her, their eyes locking; the force of his emotion was enough to make him forget what he'd meant to say, even forget why he'd come over. He swallowed hard, once, and repeated her name, so quiet it was barely a breath. "Peyton…"

She said nothing, just looked at them, shocked and uncomprehending.

Lucas shook his head a little, glancing at the car. His voice was soft, "Peyt, you can't let Rachel do this to you. You can report this, you have to tell someone-"

"Don't…" Peyton sighed. She'd meant for whatever word she managed (because the force his gaze, which she hadn't seen in what felt like forever, had made it difficult to breathe) to sound forceful, but instead it came out weak and shaky. She looked at him desperately, and asked, her throat tight, "What are you doing?"

"I just…" Luke's voice trailed off. Looking at her, he realized that pretending the past weeks of silence hadn't happened, just picking up with conversation as though they did it all the time, was an insufficient and cowardly approach.

He felt paralyzed again, under her questioning gaze. Paralyzed by the pain in her eyes, and his inability to take it away. He didn't know if he should apologize, or if he should just explain to her he wasn't angry, that it was okay.

Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind, "I wish I could make them stop. I wish it was me they all hated. I-I wish…I wish I could fix this for you."

Peyton's eyes filled and she had to break eye contact. She wasn't sure what she had wanted to hear. Somewhere from underneath the shock that had filled her when he'd said her name, there was hope. That hope that he had represented in the Before.

But he was talking about the car, and all the rest of it. He felt bad for her. She'd figured that out when Haley had told her he was the one who cleaned her driveway.

But none of what he was staying was explaining the silence, or offering to end them. And more than anything, she wanted them to end. She wanted _him_, even if all they ever got to be was friends.

She waited, blinking back tears, silently willing him to say something else. When she was met with only silence, she glanced at him. His face was expectant; he was only waiting for a reply.

"You can't. And you don't have to keep trying, okay?" She didn't want that. She didn't want him defending her honor during basketball games or cleaning up other people's graffiti on her driveway when he wouldn't look at her in class, when he wouldn't talk to her about anything real.

His eyebrows drew together, and his voice was strained, "But, Peyton, I just-"

She took a couple of backward steps, struggling to keep her voice steady. "You don't have to be like this, I know you don't…I know you don't want to be around me." These words hit him like a physical force; he never wanted her to think that. Peyton gritted her teeth, desperate to keep control. "Anyway, you would just….if we still hung out it would just make it worse."

"But-"

"Just leave me alone, Lucas."

Peyton whirled and headed to the driver's side of her car so he wouldn't see her cry, so the strength it was taking to walk away from him wouldn't crumble.

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas was still standing in the parking lot two minutes after Peyton's car had disappeared, when Nathan and Haley walked up behind him. "Luke?"

He turned, his face pale and dazed.

Haley and Nathan exchanged a look.

"What happened, man?"

"You were wrong," he said, his voice tense. He closed his eyes, trying to make sure the anger he was feeling toward Rachel, the anger that had increased tenfold since he'd seen the look on Peyton's face, would not be taken out on his brother and best friend. "You said I would know what to say when I talked to her but I…I talked to her and I had no idea…" He ran his hands through his hair. "I said the wrong thing, it wasn't what she wanted…I don't know what to say."

Haley took a step forward and placed a hand on Lucas' arm. "Luke."

He ignored her. "Do I…do I apologize? Because I haven't talked to her, because I haven't been there?"

"Yes," Nathan answered emphatically.

"But we haven't…we haven't really talked since she told me. Since I found out she'd been lying. When _I_ was mad at _her._ So maybe I don't apologize, maybe I just forgive her. Do I tell her it's okay? I didn't know which to do…" He looked up, finally appearing to address them directly. "She saw the car." He had filled both of them during practice. "And she just looked so hopeless, but not surprised, like she expects shit like that now. And I wanted to make it okay, I wanted…I wanted to fix it. But, but…she told me I can't fix it, she told me not to try."

Haley's eyes were full of sympathy. "C'mon, Lucas, let's go."

He met her eyes, his voice urgent, "She said I would make it worse. Is she right? I mean…they didn't like her before, when we were…friends. Before they knew. What if they make it even worse if we hang out again?"

Nathan looked vaguely pissed off again. "First of all, how much worse could they get? And second…second she cares more about what you're doing than what they're doing."

He looked at the pavement. His next words were quiet, "She told me to leave her alone."

Haley sighed, "She doesn't mean that, Luke. But you need to let her know you don't _want_ to leave her alone." She lowered her voice a little, "She thinks you hate her."

Lucas' head snapped up to meet Haley's eyes, his expression stricken. "_What_?"

"She told me she didn't want you to hate her."

"But I don't!" His voice cracked, his eyes were desperate, as though it was Haley who needed convincing. "I don't hate her, I couldn't, I never…" He glanced at Nathan, as though daring him to challenge this, and then turned back to Haley. "I _don't_!"

Haley nodded. "I know." Her voice was soothing, but firm. "I know you don't. But you need to tell her. If it's what you decide to say, you have to go tell her you forgive her. You have to find the right words for her, okay?" She pulled him into a hug. "Just go tell her."

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton didn't know what was wrong with her.

She had been trying to be tough, to be strong. After the first day she'd told Lucas, she had only one true moment of weakness, one real breakdown: when they'd ruined Ellie's drawing, and she figured that one was earned.

But having Lucas talk to her again, having him demonstrate how great of a guy he was even when she'd hurt him, even they couldn't be like before…her heart was aching from the memory of his eyes on hers, the gentle sincerity of his words, even though they were the wrong words. She couldn't stop crying.

She hadn't made it upstairs, but had walked into the living room, kicking at the board games on the floor, sat down among the traces of their regression and sobbed.

She'd even done something she'd promised she wouldn't; grabbed the phone and dialed her father, vulnerable enough to tell him everything, even though she'd been trying to convince herself there was no point. He hadn't answered the first time she called, or the second. He probably wasn't getting service; it happened a lot.

So she had hung up the phone, and simply cried. She was still there when the doorbell rang.

It was probably Haley or Nathan or both; Lucas would have reported to them, and they would have wanted to see if she was okay.

Peyton didn't think she could handle it right now. They would have the right words; they would tell her that Lucas was just confused or scared, and they would tell her he cared about her and was making an effort, and even though he was being an idiot he didn't hate her. But they couldn't know those things, and even if they did, they weren't the ones she wanted saying it.

The doorbell rang again; she ignored it. Then it rang a third time, and a fourth and a fifth, in rapid succession. Peyton sighed, wiping her eyes, and stood up. She would tell them she was okay, that she just wanted to be alone, not to worry.

But when she opened the door, Peyton found herself staring at the person she'd just told to leave her alone.

Lucas stared at her. His heart twisted; she'd been crying. He'd done that, he'd made her cry.

He swallowed. He had to say what he'd come here to say. "Peyton. I…" His voice faltered. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened. "You're what?"

"I'm sorry, Peyt. I'm so sorry." He felt suddenly like crying, he felt like taking her in his arms and never letting her go.

Her face was very pale, and her voice was barely a whisper, "Why are you sorry? You shouldn't be sorry."

"Well, I am." He was moving forward in very small steps, slowly moving into the house.

"For _what_?!" She sounded almost panicked, as though he'd made a grave mistake she was inadvertently responsible for.

"For not being there for you. I should've been there. I shouldn't have stayed away."

She was shaking her head emphatically. "No, no, you…of all the people in the school, you're the only one who _should _be mad at me. So don't apologize because you feel bad for me, don't apologize because you think it's what I need to hear…"

Peyton's voice was nearing hysteria, so Lucas' kept him calm and quiet. "I'm not. Peyt…it wasn't that I was mad. I mean, I was mad you didn't tell me." She winced, and he quickly continued, "But that wasn't why I stayed away. I was scared." He paused, holding her gaze, and amended, "I _am_ scared. I'm scared of wanting you, because I don't…I don't know what it'll mean. I don't know if it means I'll be betraying Brooke, or I don't know if it's too bizarre, I don't know if we can ever pretend what happened isn't there…" He drew a breath. "I thought if I stayed away I could pretend I didn't…want you and need you the way I do." She inhaled sharply at this, but stayed silent.

He continued, "Haley and Nathan keep saying I should be there for you as a friend, and I need to be a friend for you…but I can't be just your friend." He smiled a little, sadly. "It only worked before because we had possibility…hope."

The tears were back, at Luke's simple reminder of what they had been for each other. All that hope that had crashed.

Lucas' mouth was dry. Still, he kept on, "So, you see? The reasons I stayed away were selfish. It wasn't because I was angry at you, I was just afraid and confused and…and that's not an excuse for not being there for you."

There was a catch in Peyton's voice, but it was ridiculously unsteady; still she had to ask the question. "So what now? You're still…scared and confused and all that?"

And suddenly Luke realized Nathan had been right after all. When he needed to, he could find the right words. He smiled, gently, and brushed his right index finger tenderly against a lone tear that had escaped the ones sparkling on her eyelashes. "Yeah, I am. But I also know I can't _be_ without you anymore. I know I can't stay away and watch you get hurt. I know…that I'm here. And I'm in." He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. "For good."

Peyton just looked at him, then drew a long, shuddery sigh. She moved closer to him, diminishing the already small gap between them. She tilted her head back, and he fingered a stray lock of her hair between his fingers.

Lucas was the one to do it. Because he thought it would work even more than words. In one fluid motion, he cupped her face in his hands and encased her lips in his.

Peyton clutched a handful of his shirt in her fist with one hand, an unconscious motion to make sure he stayed close. Her other hand wrapped around his neck, her grip tight.

He kissed her with gentle urgency, kissing her upper lip, then her lower lip. She opened her mouth to him, insistently, her tongue sliding against his. She was lost, lost in his breath, in his heartbeat against the hand she had on his chest.

They were moving a little, backwards for Peyton, and she heard a thud, vaguely realizing they hadn't been inside the house until now.

Luke moved his lips from hers, kissing his way to the side. He could taste the salt of her tears as he moved from the side of her mouth down her neck. She gave a low hum of pleasure, but in the next instant moved slightly, catching his lips again, like she can't bear to pull away.

His right hand entangled in her hair, and he let the other drift down to her chest, caressing gently. She gasped against his mouth, and Luke drew back slightly, his eyes locking on hers.

She noticed the way his eyes seem darker, a more smoky blue. His voice was a whisper. "Is this okay?"

She nodded breathlessly, even though it felt like the world's biggest understatement.

Lucas kissed her again. He was nervous and vulnerable to the point that he could feel his chest shaking. But this was perfect, and his mind was full of Peyton and nothing else.

He let one hand drop, snaking up under her shirt. She froze for a nanosecond, then reached back, pulling her shirt over head.

Lucas' hands wandered over her body for a moment, then he mimicked her move, pulling his own shirt off; he didn't want anything between them. The heat of their bodies, pressed against each other, caused an almost palpable tingle of electricity to jolt throughout his body.

Peyton's lips made a downward slope, moving from kissing his mouth, to kissing his chin, to his neck. As she moved south to his chest, his let his hands tangle in her hair, lightly massaging her scalp.

After a moment of this she straightened up again, their lips coming back together as though drawn by magnetism. His hand moved under her bra, gently caressing her left breast. She murmured pleasurably, and her hands drifted downward, and he was aware of her fingers fumbling with the button his jeans.

She didn't undo the zipper yet, but one hand went under the waistband of his jeans, her fingers venturing just under his boxers. God, he ad never felt such a strong desire.

Peyton cold hear Lucas' breath above her, like a feral whisper, both heavy and soft. She looked up at him, smiling almost shyly. His heart skittered, and he kissed her, hard and urgent, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground.

When Peyton was on the ground again, they draw back and look at each other.

"Is this real?" She whispered. Her head was spinning, because an hour ago she told him to leave her alone, and two hours ago it had been weeks since they'd spoken.

Lucas nodded vehemently. Nothing had ever felt so real to him.

"C'mon." She didn't want to lose the moment, and they hurried up the stairs. She unhooked her belt on the way, dropping it on the floor outside her bedroom.

He stayed close to her the short distance from the door to her bed; when they reached the edge of the bed, Peyton turned to face him, brushing her lips against his before falling backwards, pulling him down after her.

He kept his weight on his arms to keep his weight off her. He smiled down at her.

"Hi."

"Hi." Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed.

Lucas swallowed hard, and his fingers shaking slightly as he fumbled with the clasp on her bra. To calm his sudden surge of nerves, he kissed her again; there was a part of him that would be content to kiss her forever. At the same time, he wanted her, every part of her, a desire which only increased as her hips press against his.

Her bra fell away, and he moved down her body, his lips lingering on her neck for a moment before he made it to her breasts, his lips pressing gently.

Peyton stroked his hair with one hand, and she tried to maneuver her other under his chest, her fingers fumbling with her jeans.

After a moment of this, Lucas sat up, wordlessly pulling Peyton's jeans off. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and he's momentarily distracted, staring stupidly.

Peyton was unzipping his jeans, and he shifted his weight to make it easy for her to peel them off. Before he tossed them off the bed, Lucas reached for his wallet in his pocket, pulling out a condom. They fell back, their legs entangling. Peyton leaned up a little, nibbling on his earlobe; Lucas made a pleasurable sound from the back of his throat as she slipped her hand into his boxers.

He was aching for her, and it was with renewed urgency that he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her black panties. As if in response, Peyton pulled his boxers away, and he followed suit.

Peyton gasped as he moved into her. Lucas was the third guy she has had sex with, and it was only then that Peyton finds out what it is like to be a perfect fit.

Lucas' rhythm grew progressively stronger. Peyton strained toward him, fingers clutching his shoulders, her mouth round against the skin along the base of his jaw.

God, he was lost in her; more than that, he was _home_.

A soft sound almost like a whimper slid from Peyton's lips. He paused in his movements to look at her. "You okay?"

Peyton nodded harder than necessary, as if she'd lost the power of speech and needed to be extra emphatic. She gasped as he resumed his movements. "Oh, God…"

He stroked her hair, now damp with sweat. He leaned close, nuzzling his nose against hers. "Peyton," he breathes. "Oh, God, Peyt…"

"Luke," she murmured back.

A wave of energy surged through his body. "Oh, God…" His body lurched, and a spasm buckled his arms. Peyton yelped suddenly, as though she'd been scalded; she shuddered. He gave a low, throaty moan, and ducked his head so he could kiss her.

Moments later, Lucas felt her breath against is ear, heard her murmur something so quiet he couldn't be sure it was intended for him.

"God, I love you."

He opened his mouth, more than ready to reply, knowing now that he would mean it with everything in him. But the words caught in his throat; he took her hand impulsively, lacing their fingers, waiting for the words to come. A moment later a final spasm seizes him and the words disappear in a final moan. His arms shuddered and turned to jelly, and he very nearly collapsed on top of her; he was able to move a little to the side, retreating back and rolling off her.

Peyton inhaled slowly, her chest heaving. She moved closer to him, and Lucas pressed a kiss against her temple, wrapping his arms around her. Peyton nestled her head against his chest, feeling his heart thumping rapidly.

Lucas placed his lips close to her ear and said in a husky, humming voice, "That was amazing. _You_'re amazing."

Peyton smiled. "You, too." Everything bad and painful of the past few weeks felt far away and inconsequential, as though they were events that had transpired long ago and were barely remembered.

Peyton reached out and threaded her fingers through Lucas'. His thumb gently caressed the place between her thumb and index finger. She drew his hand close to her, gently kissing the tip of each of his fingers.

Lucas smiled, "Mmm, you're killing me, girlie." Her heart constricted at the familiar, affectionate tone and the use of the name.

She tilted her head back so she could look at him. "I've missed you."

He moved slightly, and Peyton lifted her head off his chest so they were lying facing each other, their foreheads touching. Lucas' thumb gently stroked her cheek and he softly replied, "I missed you, too."

Tears suddenly stung Peyton's eyes. "I'm sorry, too…I should have told you, I was just scared…"

"Hey…" His voice was gentle. "I know. I know it wasn't your fault, and I know why you didn't tell me." He kissed her gently. "It's okay." She smiled, and turned back, nestling her head against his chest again. Lucas stroked her hair. "It's all going to be okay. I'll make it okay."

Peyton closed her eyes contentedly, letting herself believe him. It was hard to remember Rachel and the others at that moment, when all she could feel was overpowering happiness and hope and relief. All she could feel was how much she loved Lucas.

They lay in silence for awhile, and she was half asleep, when she murmured in a fragile voice, "Don't leave."

"I won't." he promised. "I'm here."

She fell asleep in his arms.

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas had no trouble drifting off, Peyton in his arms, light-headed and dizzy with happiness.

An hour later, though, he woke up, shaking and confused from a half-remembered dream that had been more like a flickering of images. From the imagined car crash, Peyton's car slamming into Rachel's, to Peyton's car, the angry message keyed in the side, to Peyton's face looking up at him, trusting and loving, to his last time with Brooke.

He looked down at Peyton, deeply sleeping. He remembered her 'I love you', the way his own wouldn't escape, in spite of the complete fullness of its truth.

He had only ever said that, in the romantic, 'in-love' way, to Brooke. And by the end of their relationship, it had become automatic. And somehow, the meaning had drained. They said it all the time, as a habit.

And he knew what he felt now was more than he had then. He knew if he told Peyton he loved her, he would mean it in a way he never meant it before.

_But._

He remembered after the accident, the way he'd spent hours wishing he'd told Brooke he'd loved her in their last conversation. He known it wouldn't have made sense, wouldn't have fit. But he still wished it.

And now, he couldn't help but feel guilty of the way he never meant it with Brooke, not really. He had loved her. But he had never been in love with her, and it was as though he needed the comparison to realize that.

He felt guilty, making this realization now. He felt guilty for all the thoughts he'd had while he and Peyton made love, all the thoughts ascertaining that he'd never felt anything like it before. IT felt like a betrayal, making light of their whole relationship _now_.

Lucas knew he couldn't help how he felt about Peyton. He couldn't help the difference. And deep down, he even knew that Brooke probably would not have been surprised at his realizations.

Still.

The dream had left him disoriented and inexplicably panic; his lungs felt tight, and he was breaths were coming in harsh gasps.

He gingerly lifted his arm from under Peyton, quietly stepping out of the bed and heading to her bathroom, where he kept the light off, splashing cold water on his face.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton opened her eyes and blinked against the sunlight streaming through her blinds. It was Saturday morning, and a quick consultation with the glowing numbers on her alarm clock told her she'd slept until 10:46 a.m.

Something was wrong.

She sat up, confused by her feeling of disorientation. Then the previous night came back to her in a flash, and she realized she wasn't supposed to be alone.

_Don't leave._

_I won't. I'm here._

Peyton's stood, going to the door of her bedroom, listening for movement.

The house was silent, as always.

"Lucas?" She called tentatively. "Luke!"

There was no answer. Her chest constricted.

Remembering for some reason the morning of the Regression, when she'd woken up on the couch to find him gone, a note waiting for her.

Hopefully, she turned back to her room, eyes scanning. Nothing. She headed downstairs and searched again.

He was gone.

_I hope you enjoyed, please review I'm VERY interested in knowing what you guys think of this one. Sorry again for the delay…I'll be working hard to make sure it doesn't happen again. _


	8. All I Need

_Oh, man. I was about halfway through this chapter when the new episode came on…and I was suddenly very reluctant to write any angst and come out of LP heaven. I have to thank you guys for the reviews…you guys seriously make my day, the lengthy ones are my favorite. Anyway, here we go…_

Chapter Eight

Say (All I Need)

_Do you know where your heart is?  
Do you think you can find it?  
Or did you trade it for something, somewhere  
Better just to have it  
Do you know where your love is?  
Do you think that you lost it?  
You felt it so strong, but  
Nothing's turned out how you wanted_

Well, bless my soul  
You're a lonely soul  
Cause you won't let go  
Of anything you hold

Well, all I need  
Is the air I breathe  
And a place to rest  
My head

_~OneRepublic_

Lucas had screwed up.

He had _left_ her. Every time he thought about it, he stomach twisted. The last words she had said to him were _Don't leave_, and he had left her.

It was ten in the morning, and he was at the River Court, pacing

He hadn't meant to do it. After his dream, he'd gone into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, stared at himself in the mirror, trying to calm down. Still, his thoughts were all over the place, and he had been teetering on the brink of a panic attack.

He had just needed air. This is what he keeps reminding himself. He'd stood in the bathroom, practically hyperventilating, throat and lungs closed. So he had stepped outside.

Then he'd needed to clear his head, to keep moving. And before he had realized what was happening, he'd been walking without thinking about it, moving further away from Peyton.

After awhile of walking, it was as if Lucas had snapped out of a trance, and was startled to find himself standing alone in the middle of the River Court as the sun rose. His first thought had been to turn around, hurry back to Peyton's. But, somehow, he couldn't seem to make himself go.

So, now, he paced. He had been pacing for the past few hours. Pacing and thinking and panicking. He wanted to go back. He honestly did. The thought of Peyton waking up alone, calling his name, realizing she was alone…it made his stomach hurt.

_But_.

Something about returning to her house filled him with dread. He could not get rid of the unsettling images lingering from his dream: the imagined car crash, Brooke's face smiling up at him the last time they'd had sex, the echo of the habitual, half-hearted _I love you_ he always used with her.

He loved Peyton, and he wanted her, and everything about the previous night had been perfect and _right_.

But it didn't change the fact that he felt incredibly, immeasurably guilty for it. For the fact that he felt something so much deeper for the girl he'd known two months than the girl he'd dated for over two _years_.

Bits and pieces of the last few conversations he and Brooke had had echoed in Luke's mind.

"_Do you ever worry about us? Do you ever think that…maybe we're together out of habit? Or because it's expected?"_

_"Usually if someone asks a question like that it's just a roundabout way of saying what they're thinking."_

_"Or what they think the other person is."_

Or….

_"Tired of what, Lucas? Parties? Or me?"_

_"Did I do something to you?"_

_"It's not anything you did, Luke. It's just…the way you've been acting lately."_

This sort of comment had been sprinkled throughout their conversations in the weeks before the accident, usually brought up out of nowhere. He had suspected they were indicative that _Brooke _was pulling away from the relationship, maybe leading up to one of the breaks that had occurred throughout their entire relationship.

He hadn't really listened to what she'd been saying. It wasn't _Brooke_ who'd been pulling away; it was him. She had simply been able to notice what he never had: he hadn't been in love with her, and he'd been getting bored with the façade.

Lucas' knees weakened beneath him at the same moment a wave of nausea seized him; he sunk to his knees on the court.

It wouldn't have mattered so much if the accident hadn't happened, if Brooke was still alive. He would have met Peyton, and (this, Lucas was certain about) he would have felt the same way about her he did now. He would have realized he wasn't in love with Brooke and they would have broken up; they had been heading toward that anyway.

He and Brooke would have been fine. They would have eventually learned to be friends; he would have been with Peyton, without the drama and tragedy and betrayal and heartbreak. They would have been happy.

And Brooke, she would have found someone else. She would have found someone who really loved her.

But the accident _had_ happened. And Brooke had died, seventeen years old, having spent the last two years of her life with a boyfriend who had never been in love with her, and this realization was enough to make Lucas sick with self-revulsion.

He hadn't loved her, but he had pretended otherwise, deceiving even himself. And now, he was doing the opposite: he was in love with Peyton, entirely and desperately in love with her, but everything he did seemed to suggest the opposite.

LPLPLPLPLP

Half an hour later, Lucas stumbled dazedly into his mom's café. He knew Haley was working that morning, and he felt the sudden need to talk to his best friend, get his confusion out before she found out what he had done to Peyton. He was secretly hoping for some sort of reassurance about his relationship with Brooke; for Haley to tell him that Brooke had been the same way, that he'd been good for her in spite of everything, that he shouldn't feel guilty.

However, Lucas found both Nathan and Haley at the café, and the first question out of Haley's mouth was, "How did it go with Peyton last night?" Just like that, his plan was dead.

Both of them were looking at him expectantly. Lucas' eyes darted away, and he answered vaguely, "It went fine. Listen I need a favor-"

"It went _fine_?!" Haley repeated incredulously. "That's all you're going to say?"

"Yeah. It was fine. Good. I apologized, and she did, too. I told her I was going to be there." He shrugged. "Fine."

Haley peered at him, a searching look on her face. Flushing under her scrutiny, Lucas turned his attention to his brother, "Listen, can you do me a favor?" Nathan nodded, a little uncertainly. "You know Peyton's car got keyed…I don't want her to have to take it someplace and be embarrassed…can you tell her to take it to Keith's place? I'll talk to him beforehand, and I'll take care of the money and everything…but can you just tell her about it?"

Nathan and Haley exchanged glances. Nathan turned back to Lucas, his brow furrowed. "I…I don't get it, Luke. Why can't _you _just tell her?"

Lucas' gaze drifted down, his fingers picking absently at the wooden countertop. At his silence, Haley asked, her voice growing impatient, "Luke, you _did_ talk to her, right? You said everything's okay?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but the truth stuck, and instead he blurted out, seemingly apropos to nothing, "Hales, you're my best friend. You've always been there for me, and I love you for it. And Nate, you're a hell of a brother. I mean it, I couldn't ask for a better one."

They were staring at him with absolute bewilderment now. After a pause, Nathan laughed incredulously. "You feeling alright, man?"

Haley cleared her throat, "Luke, what's going on?"

He met both of their eyes. "I just wanted to tell both of you something nice because…I don't think you're going to like me much in the next thirty seconds."

Their perplexed expressions instantly gave way to something more akin to dread. "What'd you do?" Haley asked in a low voice.

He closed his eyes. Wished for an interruption, his mom's appearance, maybe, or some customer who needed Haley's service. When nothing manifested, he answered quietly, "I slept with Peyton last night…and I left this morning before she woke up."

Haley inhaled sharply; she closed her eyes. Nathan's eyes flashed; his gaze hardened instantly. "You're right," He stood up, glaring at his brother. "I don't like you." He shoved past him, out the door of the café.

Lucas winced as the door slammed, and then he anxiously met Haley's gaze. She was looking at him, her eyes so full of disappointment it was almost worse than Nathan's fury.

"Hales…"

She held up a hand to stop him, closing her eyes briefly; without opening them, she asked in a strained voice, "Do I want to ask why you did this?"

He was quiet, sticking picking at the countertop. After a moment, he asked hesitantly, "Haley, was Brooke in love with me?"

Her eyes flew open, uncomprehending. She stammered a bit, trying to keep up with his line of conversation, and her tone was impatient, "Of _course_ she did. But we're talking about Peyton, how could you just _leave_ her-"

"Haley." He leaned forward, his tone serious. "I was never in love with her."

Haley's eyes flashed, "Then the hell would you _sleep_ with her-"

"No, not Peyton. Brooke. I was never in love with Brooke."

"Yes, you were, what are you talking about? Of _course_ you were, but that's not what we're talking about-"

"Haley, you have to listen to me, okay? I'm trying to explain, I am. I was never in love with Brooke. I-I guess I thought I was, but now…I love Peyton." He stopped, momentarily taken aback with the ease it had taken to get the words out. It was the first time he'd admitted it out loud. "I'm _in _love with Peyton. And it's nothing like it was with Brooke, and now I know…I realized last night, after Peyton and I were together…I realized it."

Haley nodded a little, clearly struggling to process everything. When she spoke, he could tell she was choosing words carefully. "Lucas…if you love her, why did you leave?" Before he could answer, Haley hastened to add, "Don't think I'm overlooking this whole thing about Brooke, but…but _damn_ it, Luke, you don't think Peyton's been hurt enough?"

Sighing, Lucas rubbed his hands tiredly on his face. "I know. But I went to bed last night…._so _fucking happy." He laughed a little, the kind of laugh that suggests that nothing is the least bit funny. "But I woke up…I kept dreaming about Brooke, and about Peyton, and it was all getting mixed together. And I woke up in a panic, and that's when I realized I didn't love Brooke and I just…I freaked out."

Haley was shaking her head, and she'd stopped looking at him. Anxiety increasing, Lucas continued, "I just wanted to get some air, and then I was walking without even realizing it…and I couldn't make myself go back, even though I wanted to."

Haley, who had been leaning on the counter across from him, suddenly straightened up, her eyes surveying the café. "I have to get back to work-"

"Wait!"

She sighed heavily, "What?"

"What…What should I do?"

Haley gritted her teeth and let the anger slip into her tone for the first time, "You can't fix everything, Luke. You don't always get a do over. And this…this is bad."

ILPLPLPLPLP

Nathan knocked on Peyton's door twice, and within two seconds the door flew open, and Peyton was standing there, her expression cautiously hopeful.

As soon as she saw who it was, however, her face fell. Deflated, she forced herself to smile and say, "Oh, hey, Nate."

She had been hoping for Lucas, that much was obvious; Nathan's heart went out to her. "Sorry."

"For what?"

Nathan's eyes were deeply sympathetic, and his tone let her know right away that he knew everything. "For not being him."

Peyton's eyes filled, just like that.

Since she'd woken up, she'd felt dazed and numb. It was almost as if she'd dreamed the entire thing, as though the last time she'd seen him was walking away in the parking lot, as if she'd been alone the entire time.

She tried to smile, even forced a strangled laugh, "Isn't it _pathetic? _ I actually half convinced myself he'd just gone out to pick up breakfast or something…."

She turned her back and walked away from him, setting her jaw firmly and blinking the tears back, motioning with her hand for him to come in.

Peyton heard the click behind her that indicated Nathan was closing the door. She folded her arms in front of her chest. "So…he told you?"

"Yeah," came Nathan's voice from behind. "Just now."

Turning to face him once again, Peyton grimaced a little, "Let me guess. You're here to tell me he'd just confused, and he did it _because _he likes me so much and that it's all going to be okay?"

She'd wanted to sound sarcastic, but her voice shook at the end, and Nathan's hands suddenly gripped her forearms, as though he was afraid she might collapse at any moment. "Actually," he told her seriously. "I came to tell you I think Luke's being a selfish asshole. And I came to make sure you were okay."

"I am."

He smiled. "Liar."

Peyton nodded, acknowledging the truth of this statement. They were quiet for a minute, then she asked the question she was dying to. "What is he saying? I mean….what's his excuse?" Inwardly, she was praying for some rock solid explanation, even though she could not come up with any scenario that included one.

"Dunno," Nathan admitted. "I didn't stick around to hear excuses."

A ghost of a smile flickered over her face at that. It faded instantly, however, and, sighing, she stated quietly, "I shouldn't really be surprised." Nathan raised his eyebrows in question. "I told him…" Peyton flushed, almost embarrassed. "I told him I loved him and he…" Her voice cracked in spite of her efforts. "He didn't say it back."

This face hadn't bothered her last night. It was the second time she'd uttered those words to him, and of course she hadn't expected him to say it back the first time, just after her admission about the accident.

And last night…she had not said it to hear it from him. She'd said it because it was the only coherent thought in her mind, because it was all she felt, all she'd ever wanted or needed to feel. She had not been fully convinced Lucas had even heard her.

Now, though…the memory of his silence cut her deeply. She had been foolish. When he had approached her in the parking lot, she'd understood: he only felt bad for what was happening to her at school, because he was a good guy. Nothing more, nothing less.

But a few words, an apology, and an earth-shattering kiss, and Peyton had been lost once more. She'd let herself believe he felt the same way, in spite of what she had done, in spite of the fact that he couldn't say it.

And, God, he'd proven her wrong.

Nathan, however, was frowning. Of all the potential motives for Lucas' latest demonstration of idiocy, even he would not have considered the fact that Lucas did not love Peyton a possibility. Even without the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Lucas wasn't the type of guy to sleep with a girl just for sex, or on the rebound.

Of course, Nathan hadn't thought his brother was the kind of guy to sleep with a girl and then take off before morning, either.

Still, he opened his mouth, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue, but something about the look on Peyton's face stopped him. She didn't want to hear she was wrong from him; she was probably expecting it, and she wouldn't believe him.

Instead, Nathan rubbed his hands together, businesslike. "So, what's the plan, here? You want me to knock some sense into him?"

Peyton stared at him, and Nathan maintained the straight-faced, mock-casual expression long enough to make her laugh, genuinely. "How about I keep you on standby?"

"Not a problem. I'm always ready for action, though, so keep it in mind."

Peyton smiled thinly, "Good to know I have options."

Nathan nodded slightly. After a beat of silence, he offered her a small, almost apologetic smile, "I should go…I kind of walked out on Haley in the process of walking out on Lucas. I'll see you later, okay, Peyton?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for coming by, Nate."

He waved this off. "Not a problem. Just remember my offer." He is two steps closer to the door when he remembers something. Turning, he adds, "Oh, by the way…I saw your car-"

Peyton groaned. She hadn't given the keyed message a thought since about fifteen seconds after she'd seen it…in other words, since Lucas had approached her and broken his silence.

"What were you planning on…doing about that?"

"I-I hadn't really thought about it." The thought of taking the car to a mechanic, having to present that message, filled her with dread. A note of bitterness slipped into her voice, "I should probably just leave it. Save them the trouble of reminding me I'm 'not wanted'."

Nathan tried to make his tone casual, as though it was all just occurring to him. "You know, my uncle owns an auto shop. You should take it there, I'll talk to him, explain…no questions asked, y'know? And, um, we can take care of…of the cost."

Peyton shot him a small, knowing smile. "_Your _uncle, huh? Did you come up with that plan?" The smile dropped, instantly. "Tell Lucas I said no thanks."

Nathan gave her an earnest look. "C'mon, Peyton. I'll call Keith myself, alright? You can't let that crap stay on your car."

"Why not?! For all I know, they'll just redo it, like with my locker."

"Not if you report it."

Peyton's throat tightened. "Nathan, my car is probably the _last_ thing I'm worried about right now!" As soon as the words were out, biting and angry, she flushed, ashamed for taking her anger out on Nathan.

But he was nodding, as if she was being perfectly logical. "Sorry, of course it's not. Just…think about it, okay? Let _me_ help you, if you won't let him." He opened the door. "Bye, Peyton."

Peyton stood alone in his absence, blinking back tears and thinking about the offer; what killed her about it was that Lucas had probably made the suggestion the Nathan that very morning; worried about her, taking measures to fix the damage done by Rachel and her friends, even as he left his own damage to her unrepaired.

LPLPLPLPLP

After Lucas left Haley at the café, he found himself driving to the cemetery.

It took him a few minutes of slowly driving through to find Brooke's grave. He hadn't been back since the burial, and he hadn't been paying attention to details that day.

He got out of his car and made his way slowly to the tombstone, feeling suddenly awkward. He had never really understood the need to visit graves, to talk to tombstones. But a sudden memory, a conversation with Peyton floated back to him.

He had been asking her about her old town, her old school. She hadn't seem like she missed it much, had explained that she wasn't very close to her friends from there.

_"There is one thing I miss since we moved," she added, almost as an afterthought._

_"What's that?"_

_"My mom's grave. She's buried there, with her parents…"_

_Lucas' brows knit together. He looked thoughtful. "You really went and talked to her, then? You, like…you really think…" He trailed off, not sure how to ask what he wanted to know without belittling or offending her._

_Peyton, however, seemed to read his mind, something that was already beginning to characterize their relationship. "Do I really think she can hear me?"_

_He gave her an apologetic look. "Yeah."_

_ "Yeah, I do. I like to think I'm talking to more than just a rock, you know? Maybe I'm biased, because it's __all__ I heard after she died, but yeah, I think she's watching me, and I think she can hear me and I…I liked actually going. It makes it feel more real, I guess…closer to her." She smiled a little, looking slightly self-conscious. "I don't know, it probably sounds stupid."_

_He smiled softly. "It doesn't." He paused, then added, "I'll take you one day, if you want?"_

_"Take me where?"_

_"Back. We'll drive to one day…you can show me your old school, your old house…we can eat at the pizza place you were telling me about." He smiled. "And then I can take you to the cemetery and you can stay as long as you need."_

_She was staring at him like she couldn't quite believe this. Then, a slow smile spread. "You'd really do that?"_

_He smiled back. "Of course."_

Lucas' chest constricted. He used to be able to amaze Peyton, simply with his desire to make her happy. When he had he become the person to hurt her?

His eyes flitted to the gravestone in front of him. He cleared his throat and began quietly, "Hey, Brooke."

He paused as though expecting a reply. Lucas wasn't even positive what he was trying to accomplish by coming here, not sure what he needed to say.

Well, he knew what he wanted: he wanted the guilt to go away. But he didn't see how that could happen just by talking at a grave. It wasn't as if Brooke could speak to forgive him or reassure him.

Still he kept talking, his words slow and uncertain. "I, um…sorry I didn't bring flowers or anything…but it looks like you're good." He took in the multiple flower arrangements. He sighed heavily, then crouched down. "Everything's pretty screwed up, Brooke. Rachel…" He laughed humorlessly. "Even _you _would be pissed at her. I-I know she feels bad about what happened, but she's…she is handling it so wrong."

Lucas rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "But that…that's not the point. _I_'m handling things wrong. I-I just…" Tears clouded his vision unexpectedly. "I met this girl. Peyton. She…she was in the other car, in the accident. But it wasn't…it wasn't her fault, you know that. And Peyton's pretty…she's pretty amazing. I think you would have liked her. She would have liked you."

He was quiet for a moment, then said, his voice cracking halfway through, "The thing is that I'm in love with her." He closed his eyes. "And I really don't want you to hate me for that, because I didn't plan it, and I didn't expect it…

"I think you understood us better than I did. All the stuff you said…you knew. You knew I was pulling away, you knew it had become a habit." He swallowed hard. " I never meant for it to be like that. And I just…I'm sorry for not knowing…I'm sorry for a lot of things.

"I miss you, Brooke," His voice shook violently. "I miss the girl who was a huge part of my life for two and a half years, I miss my friend, I miss everything. And I don't feel like I've gotten to feel that."

He leaned forward a little bit, his arm draped over the stone. "I have to start being a better guy. Peyton…she's hurting. They're hurting her, but mostly…mostly _I'm_ hurting her. And I can't keep doing that, I don't _want _to…but I don't want to think that I'm…betraying you, or belittling _us_." He sighed. "God, Brooke, I wish there was a way you could forgive me or…even just tell me what you think."

He sank down completely, fully sitting on the ground in front of her grave. Just then, his eyes focused in a leaf, slipping from a tree about twenty feet back from Brooke's grave. It was large, with a heart-like shape, drifting slowly. And as he watched, the leaf floated slowly onto a grave about thirty feet back, a grave with a sole surname on it: Payton.

His heart seized up and for a second he couldn't breathe.

Lucas reached out, touching the gravestone on the name. His voice was barely more than a breath, "Thanks, Brooke."

Scrambling to his feet, a smile split his face. His heart felt suddenly too large for his chest. "I'll be back. I promise, I'll keep coming…I'll bring flowers." He paused, then added, "I really do miss you. Just wanted you to know that."

LPLPLPLPLP

His knuckles beat out a rhythm on her door; he was jittery, nervous. He knew she'd be angry and upset with him; he didn't blame her. Still, Lucas was feeling the effects of the incident in the cemetery: as though a weight had been lifted.

Peyton's eyes appeared briefly in the glass area to the right of the door. Their gazes locked; Lucas' were apologetic and pleading. Peyton's, however, flashed instantly, hard with anger. In the next second, her face disappeared.

He knocked again, moving closer to the door. "Peyt, please let me in. We need to talk."

There was a beat of silence, and then he heard her voice, muffled and biting, "Go _away_, Lucas."

Luke pressed his hand against the door, palm flat, as though he could touch her. "Please, Peyton. Let me explain, c'mon."

There was silence. He waited, not even sure if she was still standing just on the other side. He knocked again, insistent. "Peyton!" He waited. Still nothing; he knocked again. "_Peyton_, please!"

The door swung open and Peyton stood facing him; her expression was livid, but Lucas could see the raw hurt behind the anger. It was the first time she had directed anger at him; even though he knew now he deserved it, for all the time he'd stayed away.

"I mean it," she told him, voice dangerously low. "Go _away._"

Lucas pushed his foot just into the doorway, certain she was about to try to slam it again. "I won't do that."

Peyton inhaled sharply, then forced a twisted smile. "Really? It didn't seem to bother you earlier….how about if I tell you _not_ to leave? That should have you running for the door."

She tried to slam it, but Lucas stepped forward just enough to make this impossible. His eyes leveled with Peyton's, and Lucas could only hope his sincerity showed. "Peyton. Please?"

His gaze was breaking her, wearing away her resolve. Lucas' eyes managed to hold remorse, compassion, pleading…it fogged her mind, it knocked her guard down.

It was exactly what had happened last night.

This realization was enough the make something inside her snap; her anger flared again. She wasn't used to be angry at him; the entire time, she'd been angry at Rachel and the other cheerleaders, and she'd been angry at herself for not telling Lucas. Lucas? Never. That was why she had been taken aback by his apology the night before.

Now, Peyton's hands curled involuntarily into fists, and before she could think about it she slammed her right fist against his shoulder. Lucas recoiled, caught off guard, and Peyton used the moment to shove him the rest of the way out of the door.

Lucas stumbled slightly, and when he regained his footing it was just in time to see the door being slammed in his face.

LPLPLPLPLP

Nathan went back to the café around lunchtime.

Haley raised her eyebrows at him. "You didn't leave Lucas beaten in a swamp again, did you?"

Nathan smiled wryly. "Funny. I did offer, but Peyton told me to hold off for now."

Looking up from the countertop she'd been wiping down, Haley met his eyes. "So you went to see her?"

"Yeah. Wanted to see if she was okay."

"And?"

He sighed. "She's pretty messed up. Trying hard not to be…"

Haley smiled tightly. "That sounds like Peyton." It hadn't taken long to figure out Peyton didn't like to seem weak, that she would try desperately to keep a brave face on as much as possible.

Nathan rolled his eyes a little. "He really screwed up, Hales. That was a jackass move, and you know it."

Haley held up her hands. "I know. But cut him some slack, okay? It's the whole Brooke thing…he's confused."

"Yeah, well he's had a lot of time to wise up."

Haley gave him a Look. "Look, Nathan, I _agree_ with you. He screwed up, and I told him so." Haley sighed, "Maybe I should go talk to Peyton-"

Nathan cut her off quickly, "I don't think that's a good idea." At Haley's questioning look, he quickly added, "I kinda got the idea she wanted to be alone." Privately, though, he knew Haley would go and try to reassure Peyton that Lucas was just confused, that he cared about her, that everything would be okay.

And, as he had realized himself earlier, Peyton wouldn't believe that coming from one of them.

Haley nodded a little, resigned. "Yeah, I'll give her some time, we can talk on Monday."

Smiling at her, Nathan said, "That'd work." He leaned forward and kissed her quickly. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Alright…what are you doing for the rest of the day?"

"I'm going to go by the garage, talk to Keith about Peyton's car."

"Oh." Haley paused. "Didn't Lucas say he was going to do that?"

Nathan shrugged, "Yeah, but she doesn't want his help."

Haley sighed, muttering, "I don't blame her."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

"Keith?" Nathan called, entering the garage and glancing around for his uncle.

He moved past some of the cars and found Keith standing behind the desk, Lucas on the other side.

Nathan froze as soon as he and his brother locked eyes. Nathan's expression was angry, Lucas' contrite. Keith glanced back and forth between them, eyebrows raised.

Lucas cleared his throat, attempting a casual tone, "What are you doing here?"

Nathan didn't allow an ounce of friendliness to slip into his tone. "I was going to talk to Keith about Peyton's car."

Keith looked at Lucas, who addressed Nathan, "I already did. Did you tell her?"

Ignoring the question, Nathan retorted, "She doesn't want your help."

"You saw her?"

Nathan's eyes narrowed, "You haven't?"

Keith cleared his throat. "I'll be in the back." He moved away, heading to the other side of the shot, grinning slightly as he added, "Try not to kill each other, girls."

Lucas stepped slightly closer to his brother. "I did. She wouldn't listen-"

"Can you blame her?" Nathan interjected bluntly. "You turned her into your one night stand."

The chagrin on Lucas' face vanished, his temper flaring. "I _don't_ blame her! She has every right to hate me right now, but _you_ don't!" He stepped a little closer, eyes narrow. "How many one night stands with random girls did _you_ have before you met Haley, huh?"

Nathan's voice was practically a snarl, "That was a long time ago, and don't try to turn this around on me! This is about what _you _did to _Peyton_, who isn't some _random_ girl!"

"You think I don't know that?! I'm not saying what I did wasn't wrong, okay, Nathan?! I know it was! But _you_ of all people don't have any right to judge me and…and put on this whole sanctimonious _shit_. Because I'm guessing you didn't do stuff like that because you felt guilty for betraying your dead girlfriend, did you?!"

For a second, Nathan couldn't find a response. "If you aren't over Brooke, you shouldn't have slept with her."

"What the hell do you know, Nathan? I thought you understood this, but I guess not."

"_What_ exactly do I not understand?"

Lucas groaned. "I _am_ over Brooke. That's the problem. I love Peyton, I am so fucking in love with her….but I woke up guilty as hell because of it! Because with Brooke-"

Nathan interrupted his explanation, "You _love_ her?"

Frustrated, Lucas was nearly shouting, "_Yes_! Of course I do! I have been in love with her pretty much from the moment I saw her!"

Nathan's voice was more measured now, but still cool. "Who have you told?"

"What?"

"Who have you told that you loved Peyton?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, not seeing the relevance. "You, Haley and Broo-" He stopped, flushing, but Nathan's eyebrows had already shot up. "I sort of told Brooke. I mean, I was at the cemetery…talking."

Nathan was quiet for a moment as he processed this, but then, recalling his original point he continued, "So _not_ Peyton?"

Lucas avoided his eyes, the resentment already lessening. "No. Not yet."

"Has she said it to you?"

Sighing, Lucas forced himself to meet his brother's eyes. "Look, it's not like-"

"_Has_ she?"

Luke muttered, "Why do I feel like you're asking a question you already know the answer to?" Nathan didn't acknowledge this; he simply waited. Finally, sighing, Lucas admitted, "Yeah she has. She did."

Nathan pretended to consider this. "Mmmm-hmmm. Now I wonder what that makes her think?"

Lucas was quiet for a moment, the implications of Nathan's words washing over him. Then, he began nodding emphatically. "I have to go. I have to tell her. I have to tell her I love her."

Nathan hesitated, and after Lucas got three steps away, he called after him, "No."

Lucas turned, laughing incredulously. "Just…_no_? Screw it, Nathan, I'm going-"

Sighing, Nathan hurried after his brother. "Not now, okay?" At Lucas' defiant stare, Nathan explained, keeping his tone civil, "Look, do you really think she's going to open the door again? That she's ready to listen to you? You have to give her some time, alright? She's really hurting, and if you do it now…she's going to think you're just trying to make her feel better."

Lucas moaned quietly. "Fine."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

By Sunday afternoon, Lucas was struggling to follow Nathan's advice, and his subsequent decision to wait until Monday to approach her again.

He was sitting in his room, and in his hands was the drawing Peyton had made him forever ago, when his mother walked in.

"Hey, Luke, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lucas looked up, grateful for the distraction. "Sure," he answered as he lay the drawing face down on the table by his bed. "What's up?"

Karen moved in and sat down on the edge of her son's bed. "I…saw Peyton a few days ago, at the café."

Lucas groaned inwardly. So much for the distraction.

His mom continued, "She was waiting for Haley, studying, and Rachel and a few of the other girls came in." She paused, waiting for her son to meet her eyes. "They were really awful, Luke."

He felt a flash of irritation, which he did his best to quell. "Mom, I told you that after that game. _Haley _told you that."

"I know." Karen paused. "I guess…it was so unbelievable I had to see it myself." Lucas shrugged, and looked away. Karen's voice became softer, "What else have they done?"

Lucas closed his eyes. "I told you about the paint on her locker, and her driveway…they knocked everything out of her locker once, and tore a drawing her birthmother did of her before she died." Karen gasped quietly, and Lucas kept going, "They keyed her car last week, too. To say…" Her voice was tight. "To say 'Leave, bitch.'"

"My God," Karen breathed. "Poor girl…and the way she looked the other day it was like she thought she deserved it."

Lucas winced at this. He hadn't been around to gauge Peyton's reactions to anything Rachel's done. _He_ should have been the one to tell her they were wrong, that she didn't deserve it.

Just to say something, he stammered quietly, "I-I talked to Keith. About the car, about fixing it. Y'know, so she doesn't have to go to some random place with that on her car…"

"Well, that was good of you." Karen offered him a small smile. "How's she doing?"

Lucas swallowed painfully. He didn't know how to explain to his mother that what Rachel was doing to Peyton at the moment was far less devastating than what he was doing; that her car was probably the last thing she was worried about.

Because his mom was waiting for an answer, he said quietly, "She's hurting. She tries to put on a brave face, and she's really strong but…she's hurting."

Karen studied her son's agonized expression. "You really like her, don't you?"

"It's more than that." He looked up, meeting her eyes. "I don't care that she was in the other car, it wasn't her fault. And she's so different from Brooke, it's all different." Karen nodded, silent. "At first I felt bad about…about falling for her so soon. But I went the cemetery yesterday. To see Brooke."

"How was that?"

"Good. Well, you know what I mean…I think it's okay. Me and Peyton." Lucas thought of the leaf, landing on the gravestone, a sign, an answer to a prayer, and he almost smiled. He didn't tell his mother about it; he was keeping it for himself, a spark of hope, an inspiration for him to not give up.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would talk to Peyton. And he would tell her the truth.

LPLPLPLPLP

Sunday night, Peyton was drawing. It was all she'd done all weekend, pouring the memories of Friday night that wouldn't stop swirling in her head onto the paper.

The phone rang and she reached over to stare at the caller id, hoping it was Lucas calling with the same strength that she feared it was Lucas calling.

It wasn't. It was her father.

She clicked the talk button quickly, "Dad?!" They hadn't spoken in anything but e-mail since he'd left on assignment.

"Hey, honey." His voice, cheerful and warm and so familiar, flooded over her and Peyton felt suddenly weak with relief. "How are you?"

"Fine. Great, now. It's really good to hear your voice." Peyton could feel the beginning pinpricks of tears in her eyes; suddenly she was six years old again, comforted by the mere existence of a parent, confident in the belief that they could always protect you.

"Good to hear your voice, too, sweetie. School okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine….I got an A on that re-test." In the past few e-mails, Peyton hadn't had much to talk about that didn't involve the hellish fallout from Rachel's reveal, so she'd ended up describing her need for tutoring sessions and the upcoming re-test.

"That's my girl." Peyton could hear the smile in her father's voice, and suddenly her own stretched so wide it hurt.

"Are you coming home soon?" she asked hopefully. The job he was on was supposed to be over within the next week or so, and he was hoping for a good break after. Peyton held a plan in the back of her mind; she hadn't told her dad anything that had been happening while he was away because she didn't want him to worry or come home before he was supposed to. But when he was home, she could tell him everything Rachel had been doing. There was still a part of her that held fast to the belief that he would somehow just _know_ how to make everything alright.

"Well, that's what I needed to talk to you about. They've decided to keep us on for some bigger projects coming up…It's a really good opportunity for us."

Peyton's heart sank. "For how much longer?"

"A month? Maybe two…if it's two I'll try to get a weekend off…" He kept talking, telling her about the job and the importance and the money, but Peyton didn't comprehend any of it.

The tears resurfaced, burning hot in her eyes, cool as they streaked down her cheeks. Her throat tightened painfully, and she tilted the mouthpiece away from her in case the building sobs escaped.

"…but tell me more about what you've been up to. Lucas still hanging around?" Larry had met Lucas once before he'd left. In the first few weeks of his absence, he'd e-mailed frequently, still concerned about Peyton getting settled into school, meeting people, so she had told him of plans she had with Lucas, never mentioning his connection to Brooke.

Peyton didn't answer for a moment; she was struggling to breathe evenly, and was sure she wouldn't be able to keep her voice steady.

After a beat, Larry asked uncertainly, "Peyton? You still with me?"

She drew a breath and tried to inject a cheerful tone into her voice, even though it was thick with tears, "Yeah, um…he stopped by yesterday actually. And I met his brother, and his sister-in-law…we've all been hanging out."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Lucas seems like a good guy."

"Yeah, he's great," she answered, a noticeable catch in her voice.

There was a long pause. When Larry spoke again, his voice was rich with concern. "Peyton, baby? You okay?"

For some reason, this nearly made her break down completely, but Peyton resisted, swallowing and swallowing until she managed weakly, "Fine, I'm just tired. Late night."

"Not out partying until the early hours of the morning, are you?" Larry laughed, the worry gone.

"You never know, Dad."

"I guess I don't," He chuckled. "Well, I'll let you get to sleep. I love you, kiddo."

Peyton bit down her lip so hard she tasted blood. "I love you, too."

She waited until she heard the click on the other end before she let herself cry out loud, letting the phone slam to the ground as she drew her knees closer to her body, letting her head drop against her arms.

_Well, guys, that's all for now. I think the next chapter may end up being slightly shorter (But then, I've thought that before and ended up with the longest lengths, so who knows?) but I'm also planning on having it up pretty quickly. Review away…they are seriously my drug. Hope you enjoyed!_


	9. We Are Broken

_A/N: Okay, guys, this is a pretty quick update. I think you guys deserve it, because last chapter was kind of a filler but this one…it's a big one. It's also fairly epic in length. This one's been really interesting to write; it's been one of the occasions when I felt like it's a major inconvenience to be dragged away from the laptop. I was so glad to finish it I couldn't wait to post, so here you go. Reviews would be great, and they'd be a great inspiration for more quick updates (hint…haha). Enjoy._

_Chapter Eight_

_We Are Broken_

_Keep me safe inside  
Your arms like towers tower over me  
Cause we are broken  
What must we do to restore our innocence  
And all the promise we adored?  
Give us life again, cause we just wanna be whole_

_~Paramore_

"Heeey," Laced with sympathy, Haley's greeting, as she slid into the seat next to Peyton at the beginning of first period Monday morning, was quiet a downer.

"Hi." Peyton answered casually, as if nothing of significance had happened over the weekend.

Haley was peering at her searchingly. "You okay?"

Peyton smiled humorlessly. "You can go ahead and mention it."

"Okay." Haley sighed. "I'm sorry. What Luke did…it sucked."

"Yeah, it kinda did."

"But I talked to him, and I really think he's just-"

Peyton gave her a pleading look, "Hales, I know you're trying to make me feel better about it, but can we maybe skip the whole analysis thing? I know you're going to end up giving me his excuse and I'm just…I'm not ready for that."

Haley nodded, biting back a speech. "Okay, I get it."

"Thanks."

Hesitantly, Haley added, "But I know he wants to talk to you."

"Yeah, I figured he might."

Haley watched her closely; Peyton looked exhausted and sad. Maybe dealing with Lucas at all right now wasn't the best thing for her. "You gonna be okay? When he does?"

Peyton nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can handle it."

LPLPLPLPLP

Rachel was watching Peyton and Haley the Traitor talking from her seat in the front row. Teresa followed her gaze. "You have anything else planned for her?"

Ignoring the question, Rachel asked, "Why is she still here?"

Bevin looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"We got her locker, her driveway, her car…why hasn't she gotten the message yet?"

Teresa rolled her eyes, "Relax, Rach, we're making her life totally miserable. She knows she's not wanted."

"But she isn't _leaving_," Rachel muttered in annoyance.

"It's not like she can just move. It's not like it's her decision or anything…besides," Teresa grinned. "If she left we'd have to stop."

Rachel continued to watch Peyton. The others weren't being serious in the messages to _Leave _or _Go Home_, but she was. To them, it was all about the act of it, the torment of the gesture. For Rachel, it was a goal.

She needed her gone. Because every time she looked at her, she was jerked back to That Day. She would see her walking down the hall and suddenly it was like being back on the street, that smug bitch telling her not to move Brooke, asking if she was alright as if she cared.

"We have to do something worse." Rachel stated. "We have to make it so she wouldn't dare stay another day."

The others exchanged looks. "I think we're doing alright."

"How much worse can we go?"

"I don't know," Rachel said quietly. "I'll think of something."

LPLPLPLPLP

"Peyton Sawyer?"

Peyton looked up, startled out a daze, the way she usually spent second period. Her teacher was looking at her, a notice in her hand, obviously just delivered by the freshmen office assistant who was now slinking out of the classroom.

Standing uncertainly, Peyton moved to the front of the room and took the paper, summoning her to the principal's office. She stifled the urge to groan; what now?

As soon as she gave her name to the school's secretary, Peyton was waved through. She tentatively opened the door to Principal Turner's office, to find both the principal and Lucas staring at her.

Momentarily thrown by Lucas' presence, Peyton simply stood, gaping foolishly at them. Principal Turner offered her a smile. "Hello, Ms. Sawyer. Could you take a seat, please?"

"Sure…" She slid into the chair next to Luke, dedicating every ounce of her will power to not looking at him.

"Thanks for joining us," Turner said, businesslike. "Lucas here came down to report some vandalism to your car." When Peyton said nothing, focusing too hard on keeping her gaze straight ahead, Principal Turner added, "I'm curious as to why you haven't reported it?"

"It, uh…it just happened Friday afternoon so…"

"Lucas says there's been other incidents. Your locker, for example."

"Right."

Turner looked at her for a long moment, then moved on, "Lucas seems to think Rachel Gatina is the one responsible. Can you confirm that?"

Flustered, Peyton stammered, "Um I-I don't know. I mean, I didn't see it…"

"Peyton…" Lucas said quietly.

"But you have reason to believe it was her?"

Peyton's cheeks flushed, and she paused uncertainly. "Yeah, I guess…"

"You _guess_?" Turner repeated.

Lucas, who unlike Peyton was keeping his gaze locked on her, broke in, "Sir, is the motive for doing it really as important as the fact that she _did it_?"

Turner gave him an irritated glance, "Yes, it does, when you're accusing someone with no proof."

"I already told you, I talked to Rachel right after. She didn't think anyone would turn her in."

Peyton had closed her eyes, and was listening to them talk. She wanted to disappear.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Scott, I still need to hear that from Peyton." He looked at her, a measured gaze, waiting.

Peyton addressed the floor of the office. "We've had a couple run-ins, outside of school…"

Before Turner could respond, Lucas added, "And inside school. And it was always Rachel-"

"_Luke." _Peyton broke her vow and turned to look at him, her eyes half angry, half pleading.

"But it's true, Peyton! She's threatened you, and she tore your drawing, and she hit-"

"How would you _know_?! You weren't even there!" Peyton snapped, momentarily forgetting where she was.

Lucas swallowed his next comment immediately, shame burning. His knuckles were white in his lap, and now he stared down at them, mumbling, "Yeah…I guess that's true."

Peyton looked away, too, embarrassed at the outburst. Turner looked back and forth between the two of them. "So…what all has done?"

"The car." Peyton answered firmly. "She keyed my car Friday. That's all I know."

Turner nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll certainly speak to her-"

"_Speak_ to her?" Lucas repeated, his head snapping up, eyes hard. "Principal Turner, she told me she's going to lie and say she's was changing for cheer practice…"

Principal Turner was beginning to look impatient. "Is there anyone else who saw her?"

Lucas thought briefly of the crowd of onlookers, none of whom would rat Rachel out. "No…yes! Skills Taylor. Antwon," he amended.

Turner made a note. "He saw her key the car?"

"Well, no, he saw her talking to me after."

Turner nodded indulgently. "Alright. Well, I'll certainly speak to Mr. Taylor, and Ms. Gatina as well."

Lucas' expression hardened. But at a glance from Peyton, he simply nodded. "Okay."

"Thank you," Peyton muttered unnecessarily.

Turner nodded at her. "If you think of anything else, Ms. Sawyer, do let us know. I'm sorry."

Peyton stood up, gratefully turning to leave the office; but Lucas was right on her heels.

"Peyton!"

She was walking swiftly, trying to pretend he wasn't there, but he was faster and caught up with her just down the hall outside the front office. "Hey…I'm sorry I went to Turner without asking you, but I-"

"That's what you're sorry for?" Peyton muttered.

"-I just can't stand her getting away with everything. It's not fair."

"Yeah, well, that's life sometimes, isn't it?" She retorted, still walking, her gaze ahead. They moved out of the building, so Peyton could cross campus, even though she knew for a fact Lucas' second period was in the building they'd just left.

Lucas abruptly stepped in front of her, turning so they were face to face, and said in a rush, "I just wanted her to own up to what she'd done. And speaking of owning up…can we talk?"

Peyton rolled her eyes, ignoring the way his eyes, soft and remorseful, made her heart seize up. "Did you plan that one."

He smiled, her undoing. "Kind of."

Peyton was quiet for a moment, then said decisively, "Okay, fine. We can talk. But I'm going first."

"Um…yeah, okay. Go for it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Peyton slammed her fist against his shoulder, a repeat of Saturday afternoon. "How _dare_ you?! You show up at my house, the second time we have spoken in _weeks_, _you_ kiss _me _and then…" Her voice caught. "You treat me like some worthless, one night stand…_rebound _fuck!"

The raw pain in her voice was enough to make Lucas' chest ache. "Peyt-"

She continued before he had a chance to interrupt, "Do you think I just…just have sex with whoever?! Do you think that's something I do all the damn time? Is that it? Because I have news for you, it's not." She paused, her chest heaving, and suddenly her face crumpled, and her voice was thick when she added, "I said _don't leave_, Lucas! And you looked right at me and said you wouldn't!"

"I know," he whispered. "But-"

"I'm _still_ talking," she snapped shakily. "I don't know if the artwork or the parental situation or whatever was enough to tip you off, but I have some slight abandonment issues, and, yeah, that's my own problem, but I would have thought _you_ of all people wouldn't…" Her voice broke, and she had to look away from him. "I want so bad to hate you for doing that, but I can't, because as I mentioned, I was an idiot and fell for you. And what's really sad it's my own damn fault…I knew who you were when I met you, and I kept the accident thing from you, and I knew it was a bad idea to get…involved or whatever, but I did it anyway because I couldn't make myself stay away from you. I've screwed up, and I've made some shitty decisions but this…this is on you, and if you didn't want me you should've just…you should've just fucking _stopped_."

With that, Peyton stopped talking, ducking her head and bringing an unsteady hand up to cover her face. She was crying, and she hated herself for it.

Lucas wanted so badly to pull her into his arms it ached. But he kept his distance, waiting.

Peyton drew in a shuddery breath and said in as sarcastic a voice as she could manage, "_Your _turn."

Lucas didn't speak. He waited, letting the silence stretch. Finally, _finally_, Peyton glanced up at him, as if to make sure he was still there, and it was then, as soon as her eyes locked with his, that Lucas said simply, "I love you." He half-smiled, and clarified, "I'm _in_ love with you."

There was a lump in Peyton's throat that felt like her own heart, still and silent. She couldn't speak.

Lucas waited a moment, making sure his declaration sank in. Then, he continued in a low voice, "That's _why_ I left. I know that sounds stupid, but…being in love with you…it made me realize I was never really in love with Brooke. The weird thing is, I think she knew it, but I never really did. It's like I need to know what it really felt like, and now I do.

"It's just that…that's a tough thing to realize, that you never loved your girlfriend, when she's dead. And when I went to sleep….God, Peyt I was so damn happy. More than I'd ever been in my life, but…I woke up in the middle of the night just…panicking.

"I didn't mean to leave," he explained earnestly. He was slightly disconcerted by the way Peyton's expression hadn't changed since after he said he loved her. "I went to the bathroom, had some water…I felt claustrophobic and, and it hurt to breathe…it was like I was having a panic attack. And I went outside, to get air, and I just…I started walking, and I ended up on the River Court at sunrise without realizing how I got there.

"So I'm sorry. And I didn't…I _never_ wanted to hurt you. And I didn't leave because I didn't want to be with you or because…because I don't love you." He paused, then added, "And by the way I wanted to say it back on Friday night but…I just couldn't get it out. So I'm telling you now." He repeated it one more time, "I love you."

Peyton continued to stare at him, her eyes wide and unblinking. After several long moments of silence hung over them, Peyton sighed shakily, blinking hard, sending two tears splashing down, which she quickly swiped with the tip of her fingers.

Lucas moved closer instinctively, wanting to comfort.

Peyton opened her mouth, pausing before she whispered, "But you just _left. _When…when you got to the River Court you didn't turn around and come back you just…you stayed away."

"I know," Lucas said quietly. "And I'm sorry for that. The guilt was…it was bad."

Peyton looked up at him. "And now?"

"Now, it's okay. I…I went to the cemetery. I remembered what you said, about talking to your mom, so I went to talk to Brooke, and…it's better. It sounds so…crazy, but I think…I think Brooke gave me a sign that it's okay."

Peyton was staring intently at the ground. She was so afraid to care, so afraid to trust him, but he was breaking her and she couldn't help but believe him when he looked at her like that. She muttered, "Well, now that you've got her approval…" She regretted the words instantly, because they came out just as a defense.

Lucas didn't seem to mind, though. "I'm sorry I didn't come back."

Peyton nodded for too long, then blurted out, "I thought you…regretted it."

Lucas brushed the back of his fingers gently against her cheek, looked her in the eye and said firmly, "_Never_."

Peyton let his fingers linger briefly before pulling back. "I have to go…back to class," Peyton said weakly.

"Oh….right, okay." Lucas paused, then added tentatively, "See you later?"

"I…maybe. I don't know." Peyton turned quickly, walking away. After a moment, though, she turned and added, "Thank you…for going to Turner and everything. I know you were trying to…protect me."

Lucas smiled, a tinge of sadness in it, "I wish I was doing a better job."

LPLPLPLPLP

"So did you tell her?"

Lucas glanced at his brother. They were an hour into practice, and Nathan had steadily avoided him up until this moment. "You're talking to me now?"

"I'm still pissed. But the state championship's tomorrow night. We're a team, and you and me have to work together to win this thing…we deserve it, and so does Whitey." He grabbed a ball from the rack beside and shot. "But I'm still pissed at you."

"Good to know." Lucas grabbed a ball himself, shooting. "And, yeah, I told her."

"And?"

He sighed. "I don't know. She didn't seem as angry but she still…she left." He shot. "I think she's scared to trust me."

"Smart girl."

Lucas opted to ignore the comment. "I'm going to call her tonight, ask her to come to the game."

"What good will that do?"

He grinned. "It's hard to be mad at someone who just won the state championship…or lost it."

"I don't even want to hear you joke about that," Nathan said stiffly.

LPLPLPLPLP

"Did you and Lucas talk?"

Peyton glanced at Haley out of the corner of her eye; she was giving her a ride to Karen's Café for her shift. "Uh, yeah, we did."

"And?" Haley looked at her expectantly.

She sighed. "I don't know. He was really sweet and genuine and just…_Lucas_. He explained and….God, I want to just not give a rat's ass, you know? But….he's confused and he's struggling and I _knew_ that…I'm just scared of that feeling."

"What feeling?"

"That feeling of waking up without him…." She smiled thinly, "Being alone is easier when you're expecting it."

LPLPLPLPLP

"Hello?"

"Hey, Peyton," came Lucas' voice, floating from the other end of the phone. "It's me."

Peyton gripped the phone until her knuckles were white. She had been thinking about Lucas all afternoon, reliving their conversation and trying to work out her feelings about it; she wasn't sure if she was ready to talk to him so soon, "Hey. Uh, what's up?"

"Nothing really, I just got out of practice…you know the state championship's tomorrow night."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." She paused, awkwardly. "Good luck. I hope you guys win."

"Thanks. Me, too. It's Whitey's last year, and he really deserves a championship…and this is something we've been wanting forever."

Peyton smiled a little in spite of herself, "You know, you told me the day I met you that you guys were going all the way this year."

She could hear the smile, as well as the relief, in Lucas' voice as he said in a mock-innocent tone, "Really? _I _said that."

"Uh, yeah, I think _definitely_ was the word you used."

"I guess I'm pretty smart."

She laughed a little. "Guess so."

Another awkward silence settled, but Lucas broke it quickly by blurting, "Will you come?"

"To what? The game?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know it's in Raleigh and everything…but it's going to be worth it. And I…I'd really like it if you came."

Lucas waited, nervous, listening to the silence. Then Peyton's voice, quiet and hesitant, "I don't know, Luke…"

"C'mon…you want to follow through don't you? See if my prediction was right."

"A little." She hesitated. "I'll think about it, okay?"

Lucas knew this was probably the best he could hope for. "Okay. Thanks, Peyt."

"Bye, Lucas."

"Bye."

LPLPLPLP

Peyton had barely sat down in first period the next morning when Haley asked breathlessly, "So you're coming to the game, right?"

Peyton raised an eyebrow, replying laughingly, "Is there more than one answer to that question?"

"There _shouldn't_ be."

"Haley-"

"Peyton, please come. I know how those guys are about basketball, Nathan and Lucas both, and this is like the most important thing that's ever happened to them. It's their _dream_. And Lucas really wants you to be there. And who knows, it may be the perfect way for you two to just get away from the drama and just-"

Peyton bit back a smile. "Well, calm down, okay? I'm coming."

Haley stopped talking abruptly, blinking at her. "Really?"

"Really. I'll probably have to sit somewhere in seclusion, but-"

"No, no, you can sit with Karen and Keith…Karen really likes you, and Keith's great."

"You haven't planned this at all, huh?"

Haley grinned sheepishly. "So I can tell Lucas next period that you are definitely coming, right? Because you know he's going to ask."

"Tell him I'm coming. For sure."

Haley smiled. "Good."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas was feeling great.

The locker room was buzzing with pre-game excitement, and he was pumped. His mind was off the drama and the confusion for the first time in days. They could win, he knew they could. And after, he would see Peyton. She had agreed to come, and he took that as a very good sign.

"Warm-ups." Whitey commanded.

The crowd erupted in cheers as they took the court to warm up. This alone was enough to get the adrenaline pumping.

When Lucas found himself in the back of the line for lay-ups, he turned, scanning the crowd. The RBC Center was packed, but he soon located his mom and Keith and Deb, then Dan (sitting separate and alone, of course) and many other people from school.

He didn't see Peyton.

"Luke." Nathan snapped him out of his search just in time for Lucas to take his shot; he missed.

Then he looked again, even taking in the other side of the bleachers that Pontiac seemed to have claimed.

"Lucas," Nathan said sharply. "Focus."

"Peyton's not here yet."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "So she's probably running late. Or you didn't see her, this place is packed. Don't worry about it…we have a championship to win."

"Yeah, okay."

But by the time the Ravens returned to the locker game for one more pre-game pep talk, the feeling of well-being had disappeared, and Lucas had an uneasy panic in the pit of his stomach that he'd only felt once before.

_Lucas was about to go to Rachel's, where Brooke had told him to pick her up before the banquet. He checked it watch; still too early._

_He patted his suit pocket, checking for the tickets they'd had to purchase the previous week. They weren't there._

_Maybe Brooke had them; she and Rachel had been in charge of decorating and arranging the banquet, so she'd picked the tickets up. For some reason, Lucas couldn't recall for the life of him whether she had ever given them to him._

_Sighing, Lucas grabbed his cell phone, calling her to check._

_Four rings, and then, "Hey, this is Brooke, leave a message."_

_He hung up, frowning. Brooke's cell phone was as vital to her existence as a right arm. He rarely got voicemail. _

_She and Rachel were supposed to be setting up for another idiotic party Rachel was throwing after the banquet; she could have easily been changing clothes by now, or carrying things to the area around Rachel's pool; anything that would explain her momentary lack of a phone._

_But for some reason, there was a knot twisting in the pit of his stomach, a sudden, unshakable and unjustified feeling that something was wrong._

_He searched half-heartedly through his room, making sure the tickets hadn't been placed somewhere else. He was still too early to head over to Rachel's when his phone rang._

_He snapped it up without looking, "Hello?" _

_"Lucas…"_

_The knot tightened. "Mom? What's wrong? Where are you?" She was supposed to be at Café._

_"Luke, I got a call from the hospital…there was an accident."_

Lucas didn't hear a word of Whitey's pregame speech. All thoughts of the game had left his mind; he was afraid he might be sick.

As they lined up to file out of the locker room, Nathan and Lucas in the front, Nathan shot his brother a sideways glance. "You ready for this?"

Lucas looked at him, "Something's wrong, Nate…." At Nathan's confused look, he added, "With Peyton."

Nathan rolled his eyes, "Luke, she's either running a little late, or she's out there and you didn't see her. _Or_ she decided not to come, which is honestly just as likely. Nothing's _wrong_. Get your head in this, alright?"

However, as they jogged past the cheerleaders, Lucas whispered to Haley, "Where's Peyton?"

Haley shrugged, "You sure she's not here?"

"Positive." And he was.

LPLPLPLPLP

Nathan took deep gulps of air in one of the few moments where play stopped. He was having the game of his life, or at least of the season; he was everywhere, he was the whole team.

And that was the problem.

Lucas was killing him.

All season, it had been about them. They were the captains, the team stars, and they worked together amazingly well.

Except for tonight. Lucas was clearly preoccupied. When he wasn't glancing at the door, he was taking sloppy shots, weakly executing plays, barely playing defense.

The other guys, who usually stepped up to match Lucas and Nathan's spirit, had been dragging half-heartedly from the moment the Ravens had begun to fall behind.

It was 36 to 21 at the half, and Whitey was dead quiet as he led them into the locker room.

Nathan looked at his brother with a flash of irritation; Lucas was standing still, scanning the crowd, not even seeming bothered at the score.

"Hey…" Haley approached Nathan quickly. "Is Luke okay?"

"You mean besides him playing like crap?" Nathan asked. "Yeah. He's got this idea that something's wrong with Peyton."

Haley's eyes drifted over to Lucas. "He's sure she's not here?"

"I guess so." Lucas began to head to locker room with the rest of the team, and Nathan realized he better join them. "Listen, I gotta go."

"Okay…" She offered her husband a smile. "You're doing great."

He smiled back. "Thanks…won't do much good if he doesn't snap out of it, though."

Haley looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll take care of it, okay." She kissed him quickly. "Go be great."

LPLPLPLPLP

Ten minutes later, Lucas walked out of the locker room alone, still unfocused and distracted in spite of Whitey's halftime speech. His mind was on Peyton; he suddenly didn't care about the game. He wanted it to be over her, so he could get to her.

"Hey!" Lucas turned to see Nathan running to catch up to him, his expression agitated. "You're killing me out there, man! You need to get in the damn game."

Looking away from him to scan the packed stands, Lucas simply stated, yet again, "Peyton's not here. She told Haley she was coming, _for sure_, and she's not here."

Nathan let out a frustrated groan that was more like a snarl. "She probably decided not to come! Maybe she realized she doesn't want to see you."

Lucas ignored this, fixing wide eyes on his brother. "Something's wrong. I just…I have a bad feeling."

Nathan sighed, taking in Luke's pale face, the genuine fear in his eyes. "Look. There is nothing you can do in the next sixteen minutes to help Peyton, who is probably fine, anyway. It's the _state championship_, Luke, and we need you. C'mon it's almost over."

Lucas started to nod when he heard a voice from behind, "Luke!"

He whirled; Haley was standing with the other cheerleaders, beckoning him over. "Hey, I just called Peyton. She's fine, she was late leaving because she forgot to print directions."

Lucas exhaled shakily, surprised with the strength of his relief. "So she's okay? And she's coming?"

"Yeah, she said she's fifteen minutes away, so she'll be here by the fourth quarter, hopefully" She smiled, "Relax. And step it up out there, you're embarrassing."

Lucas grinned, and swatted her playfully on the shoulder. "Thanks, Hales."

Nathan smiled gratefully at his wife, "Have I mentioned I love you?"

She grinned, "You better."

He and Lucas made their way onto the court. "You good now?"

Lucas glanced at the scoreboard, his desire for the championship suddenly renewed. Peyton was coming; she was okay, and she was coming…she was coming for _him_.

He held a fist out to his brother, both an agreement and peace offering from the tension that had plagued them for the past few days. "Let's do this, little brother."

Nathan smiled, touching his fist against Luke's.

Haley smiled to herself, watching her best friend and her husband bump fists and walk out on the court together, certain she was witnessing a ceasefire.

"C'mon," she heard Teresa say bossily. "Time to line back up."

Haley turned and followed the others behind the goal. After a second, she turned to Bevin, "Where's Rachel?"

"I don't know." Bevin looked around, clearly just realizing their captain had disappeared. "Bathroom, maybe?"

Haley shrugged, not really caring.

LPLPLPLPLP

Rachel had heard Haley tell Lucas that Peyton was less than ten minutes to the RBC Center, and from that moment on she had been filled with a white hot fury. She'd spent the entire game cheering half-heartedly, the only thought in her mind being that Brooke should've been there.

And Peyton was coming. And Lucas was relieved; he'd been upset when _she_ hadn't been there, even though she didn't care about a state championship to a school she'd barely attended. It was _Brooke_ who would have cared. It was _Brooke_ he should be missing.

And Rachel had left. She had headed to the girls locker room they'd changed in and stolen Teresa's keys from her purse. Teresa had driven her, Becky and Bevin to Raleigh. Rachel didn't have a license, but it didn't matter.

She was going to finish this.

She could hear Brooke in her head, as clear as if she was sitting next to her, _I never thought I'd see you leave your squad at a championship._

Rachel answered aloud, "They'll have to make do without either captain."

_Crazy Bitch._

Rachel laughed, "You may be right this time, you slut."

_Be careful not to smash up your face, I doubt they can fix it up twice._

"I won't be smashing anything. Of mine anyway."

LPLPLPLPLP

From the beginning of the third quarter, Lucas had done a complete turnaround. He was playing like a man possessed, fierce and determined. Nathan was no longer the whole team; he had Lucas, and the two of them began demonstrating the teamwork that had been the team's saving grace all season, quickly diminishing Pontiac's lead. The other guys stepped up as well, as if Luke's renewed will was contagious.

By the end of the third quarter, Pontiac was still ahead, 52 to 45, but they had lost dominance. Their exhaustion was showing, and they were running scared, whereas the Ravens were energetic and carefully orchestrating their comeback.

Lucas could feel the buzzing of excitement in the huddle between the third and fourth quarters; they were in control now, and they knew it.

When they headed back to the court, Nathan grinned at Lucas. "Nice turnaround."

"Thanks," he glanced over at the cheerleaders, "But don't give me too much credit. Rachel didn't come back after halftime, so it's like the darkness is gone."

Nathan laughed. "Let's finish this."

Play continued, Nathan and Lucas leading the Ravens. At one point, during a time-out by Pontiac, with only three minutes left, Nathan caught Lucas scanning the crowd.

Lucas bit his lip nervously. Nathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Focus."

He nodded. "Focusing." But in truth, he felt a stab of disappointment. It wasn't so much about the worry at this point; he actually felt a little silly after Haley had said he'd talked to her. But he'd wanted her here, especially now that a feeling of well being, as if he could do anything, had come over him. If they could win the state championship, then surely he could fix things with Peyton, maybe in the middle of a little post-championship euphoria buzzing through the air.

He shook it off; he hadn't been paying attention, it was possible she'd come in within the last few minutes and he'd missed it.

With two minutes left, the score was 65 to 60. Within moments, Nathan, double-teamed, found Lucas outside; he quickly sunk a three pointer.

That score remained, 63 to 65, and soon there were 28 seconds left, and one of the Pontiac players drove to the hoop. As he leaped up, raising the ball to shoot, Lucas came from behind and slammed the ball out of his hand.

Tyler Yelton, from the Ravens, recovered the steal and passed to Nathan, who called a time-out.

In their huddle, Whitey made eye contact with each of the players. "You have made a hell of a comeback, played as a team. And even if we lose this thing it's still a damn fine moral victory. Now, maybe that's okay with you. Maybe you want to look back and tell your grandkids about the state championship you almost won."

"No, way," Nathan said firmly. "We're winning this game." His eyes flickered to his brother. "Right, Luke?"

Lucas smiled, nodding. "We're winning this game." He followed the others back onto the court, his eyes flickering from the stands to the door one more time. He glanced at the clock. Twenty-three seconds left; he could put her out of his mind long enough to do this for his team. He addressed his brother, "Hey. It doesn't mean anything if you can't hit the shot."

Nathan smiled. "Sounds familiar."

"Let's do this, little brother." They knocked fists once more before heading to their spots on the court.

Lucas tried to put Peyton out of his mind, tried to put the clock out of his mind. One good play and they could do it. A two pointer would force overtime, and a three pointer would win it for the Ravens.

With ten seconds left, Nathan was driving to the hoop. Five seconds. He shook the defender, and faked a layup; at the last second, he turned, hurling the ball out to Lucas, who stepped behind the three pointer line.

An unexplained sense of well-being fell over Lucas, and it was with ease that he took the shot. As soon as the ball left his hands, the world seemed to move in slow motion, a silence settling over the gym.

The ball fell through the hoop, the swish unnaturally loud in the silence. And in the next second, the gym exploded with cheers.

Lucas was vaguely aware of Nathan and the rest of his team flooding toward him. He was vaguely aware of the cheerleaders running, of the crowd leaving the stands and flooding the court, of confetti fluttering down.

Lucas' grin took over his face; he felt like his heart was too large for his chest. He turned, almost certain that he would see Peyton in the crowd, a physical manifestation of his happiness, his triumph.

His face fell. She wasn't there. People were trying to hug him, clapping him on the shoulder, congratulating, but it was as though a muffled silence had settled over the crowd. The only person he wanted to see was Peyton; this moment was nothing without her there.

He moved through the crowd, scanning in vain for Peyton. She wasn't there.

Lucas turned around, saw Nathan and Haley locked in an embrace.

Suddenly, his heart plummeted. Rachel was gone. Peyton, who had been ten minutes away, hadn't come.

Haley finally let go of her husband and tried to shove through the crowd toward Lucas, pulling Nathan behind her. Haley was flushed and smiling, "Look at who came back with and made the winning shot!!" She started to hug him, but he shrugged her off.

"Haley, when did Rachel leave?"

"I don't know, she was there before I talked to you at halftime." She hit him playfully, "Why aren't you psyched?"

"Yeah, dude, we won! We're state champs!"

Lucas heart constricted, and without another word, he spun, running as quickly as he could through the crowd and out of the RBC Center.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton had hung up with Haley, feeling slightly guilty for lying to her. She wasn't late because she'd forgotten to print out directions to Raleigh, which even she'd thought was a weak excuse, but Haley hadn't questioned it.

The truth was, she'd changed her mind about going no less than a dozen times before leaving.

Ultimately, though, she realized that no matter how much she tried to deny it, she was always going to go. Because it was important to him, and because he'd asked.

She didn't know what was going to happen when she saw him; she didn't know if she was ready to take another chance on him. Peyton wasn't going to be forgetting that feeling of waking up alone anytime soon, but forgiving him for it would get easier, she could already tell.

Soon, she was less than a mile from the Center. She had the radio on, listening to the game, and Peyton couldn't stop a smile from spreading as she listened the announcer describing the leadership of Lucas and Nathan Scott, who were putting the Ravens on the verge of a major comeback. It was late in the fourth quarter (she'd been a little further than she'd estimated, apparently), but she would be there for the end.

She would be there for the part where she got to see him.

The street was dark and almost empty, as if the rest of the world was busy following a high school championship. Then, from the distance, Peyton saw a car switch on its lights and pull from the side of the road, suddenly heading in the direction from which Peyton had just come.

Just as they were about to drive past each other, Peyton paying no attention to the other car, it swerved suddenly to its left, crashing against Peyton's car.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

The car Rachel was driving veered out of control, skidding against Peyton's for a moment, until Peyton's car spun out of the way and Rachel found herself careening off the road.

She straightened her wheel hurriedly, slamming the breaks. The airbag exploded open in front of her as Teresa's car slowed to a stop, the back end of Teresa's car on the shoulder of the road, the front end sticking out, facing Peyton's wreck.

Rachel was breathing hard, exhilarated. She shifted the car to Park, just sitting. She looked out the passenger side window. Peyton's car had spun further down the road, ended up with the passenger side pressed against a tree trunk on the side.

She stared, and said quietly, "See, Brooke? I got her. It's over. We're even."

LPLPLPLPLPLP

It was like sinking into an old nightmare, one that had begun two months ago; the same sickening crash of metal colliding on metal, the screams that didn't seem to come from her, the sudden absence of control.

The backseat on the driver's side caught most of the impact of the car, and it sent Peyton's spinning away, off course. She closed her eyes she felt her left hand slam against glass, and then, there was a crash, glass shattering, and her car abruptly shuddered to a stop.

Peyton opened her eyes slowly. The passenger side of her car was caved in the middle, against a tree. Her left arm was slick with blood, the window next to her shattered.

She gingerly moved every limb, her heart rate beginning to slow as she realized she was okay. She sat still for a long time, waiting to breathe normally.

Dimly, she realized the radio was still going, and as she sat, listening, she could hear a crackling voice inform her that Lucas Scott was making the game winning shot.

Peyton looked up. She had ended up facing the other car, which was momentarily unfamiliar. Its headlights were on, and Peyton squinted, just making out a head of red hair in the driver's side.

It hit her. The car belonged to one of the other cheerleaders, she wasn't sure which, and Rachel had done this.

For a moment Peyton couldn't find anger. She could only think, in complete shock: _She was trying to kill me._

Peyton could see Rachel more clearly now she'd placed her; she was staring straight ahead, looking at nothing, a twisted sort of smile on her face.

It was this, the smile, that allowed the numbness to dissolve, the hot surge of rage to overtake her.

Peyton was calm in her fury. She opened the door and stepped out, stopping momentarily stopping to survey the damage. Her anger grew as she forced herself to admit the car was probably totaled.

She _loved_ that fucking car.

The keyed message was garbled and unreadable, something Peyton couldn't help but find ironic.

Still composed, Peyton began walking slowly toward Rachel's car, her heart pounding, adrenaline pumping.

She had tried to _kill _her.

Well, Peyton was finishing this. She didn't have half the student body around, ready to leap to her defense like they had in the hallway.

LPLPLPLPLP

Rachel didn't notice the movement at first. She was sitting in the car, staring dazedly at the wreck, listening to the game on the radio, thinking that Lucas' night was about to go down a pretty steep hill in spite of his game winning shot.

Then she saw it, illuminated in her headlights. Peyton was walking toward her.

_Walking_.

Rachel stared, disbelieving. Peyton was _fine_.

_Typical_, Brooke's voice floated by, teasingly. _You __try__ to kill a person in a car and she escapes without a scratch. Me, on the other hand, you don't even have to try…_

"Stop it!" Rachel yelled, a note of hysteria creeping in.

How is that possible? One red light, an accident, a moment of recklessness, and Brooke was dead. A _decision_, an intentional crash, and _Peyton _walked away.

Shaking with anger, tears rolling down her cheeks, Rachel whispered, "It's not over." She reached out and changed from Park to Drive.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton leveled her gaze with Rachel, staring at her, wide-eyed and pale, from inside the car. Peyton was heading for the driver's side, ready to drag her out and _finish _this.

Rachel flicked on her brights, and Peyton was momentarily blinded; then she heard the squeal of tires, and suddenly Rachel's car was shooting forward.

For a nanosecond, Peyton was paralyzed. Then, she began to run, heading off the road.

She had taken three long strides when it happened, something heavy, blinding pain, then darkness.

LPLPLPLPLP

Her body flew up, cracking against the windshield, and Rachel swerved in panic. Peyton's body, limp and lifeless, slid off the car and crumpled in the road.

Rachel was skidding from the sharp turn, and she attempted to correct quickly, the car ending up crashing against the other car, so Peyton's Comet was sandwiched between Teresa's car and the tree.

Rachel pulled her seatbelt off, turning in the seat, eyes roaming wildly.

Peyton's body was crumpled in the road, in the middle of one lane. She wasn't moving.

Rachel sighed shakily. "I did it."

_I guess you did_. Brooke's voice was flat.

Rachel's eyes slid to the passenger seat, almost expecting to see Brooke sitting there. She wasn't, of course she wasn't, but her voice continued, _Was it worth it?_

And for some reason, Rachel began to cry.

LPLPLPLPLP

Lucas' feet pounded against the road, the cold air burning his lungs in throat. He didn't know what he expected to find, but he knew, instinctively, that it was going to be bad.

Rachel had heard Haley tell him Peyton was close. Rachel had disappeared after that.

Yeah. It was going to be bad.

After a few minutes, he could see the dim light of headlights down the road. Whatever car it was coming from was off the side, facing the opposite direction. His legs pumped even faster, and without even meaning to, Lucas heard himself yell, "PEYTON!"

He moved close enough to make out the wreckage; at first, he could only see the large Explorer he recognized as Teresa's. Then, his stomach dropping, his blood running cold, he could make out Peyton's car, on the other side, squeezed between the Explorer and a tree.

It was the worst case scenario, he thought.

But then he saw her.

A strangle scream ripped from his throat, and he hurried forward, his knees dying, forcing Lucas to collapse next to her; she was crumpled and broken looking, blood everywhere.

For a moment, every organ in Lucas' body stopped working; he physically could not breathe, his heart seemed to still in his chest, coherent thought disappeared; for that moment, all he knew was pain.

"P-Peyton. Peyton, baby, c'mon….wake up…." His voice trembled. He was terrified to do it, but he reached out a quivering hand and gently found her wrist.

For a moment, he couldn't find a pulse, and his own heart seemed to mimic hers. In the next second, he moved his finger just slightly to the left, and could feel a heartbeat.

He was weak with relief. "Don't scare me like that," he whispered. Tears streaked down his cheeks, and Lucas swallowed hard, trying to think. He continued to speak to her, hoping that somehow she could hear him. "Okay. I'm going to get you some help. You're going to be okay, girlie…you _have_ to be."

He didn't have a phone; he had run out in his Ravens uniform, he glanced down the street, dimly making out an outline in the Explorer.

He moved to a crouching position, one hand resting gently on Peyton's cheek. "I'm going to get help, okay? But I'll be right back…I'm not leaving you this time, I promise."

Lucas stood, choking back sobs as he stumbled forward, heading toward the cars.

He jerked open the driver's door of Rache's car. She was staring straight ahead, crying silently. This garnered no sympathy; he pulled her by the shoulders, ignoring her surprised scream, jerking her out of the car and shoving her roughly on the grass.

Rachel stared up at him, her face paper white, eyes huge. There was so much he could say, so much pain he wanted to inflict right now, but he made himself think of Peyton.

"Where's your phone?!" he yelled, his voice scratchy.

"My…my…what?"

"Where is your phone, you fucker, give me your phone!"

"I-I don't have one, I only took the keys."

"Shit…" Lucas moved over to Peyton's car, but the way it was crushed made it impossible to get inside.

The world spun before him; he was genuinely panicking now. Closing his eyes, Lucas drew in heavy gulps of air, then looked up, finding Peyton. He had to save her. He had to think.

He was pretty sure Teresa's car wasn't in condition to drive, but just in case he reached in and grabbed the keys, pocketing them. He didn't want Rachel getting away.

Rachel was picking herself up off the ground, and before Lucas could stop him, he jerked her by the arm, leaning close. "You better pray to God she doesn't die," he hissed. "Because so help me if she's not alright, I will forget that you're a girl, or that you were Brooke's best friend, and I _will_ make you pay." He shoved her again, just enough so she'd lose her footing, and then he sprinted off toward Peyton.

Lucas knew some things. He knew he probably shouldn't move her, but he didn't see another option. So as gently as he could, he scooped her up in his arms. His throat tightened; she felt boneless, so light and lifeless.

He let her arm drape around his neck, shifting so her head rested on his shoulder.

And he began to walk, back to the center, the only place he knew nearby; there were no houses on the street.

"I love you." He said quietly, only because he wished that he had said it more than once. "God, I love you, and I'm sorry."

If she was okay, he promised himself, he would tell her a hundred times a day. He would make sure she knew, and he would make sure she believed it.

LPLPLPLPLP

"Haley!" Karen pushed her way through the crowd, Keith just behind her.

The celebration was showing little sign of dying down. Confetti still fluttered everywhere, and the team had gathered around the trophy, taking photos.

Karen glanced over toward the team, surrounding Whitey and grinning triumphantly. "Where's Lucas?"

Haley gave her an apologetic look. "I don't know, he ran off right after….I think he was trying to find Peyton.

Karen frowned, exchanging an uneasy glance with Keith. "We've been all over the gym, I didn't see either of them…I thought Lucas would be with the team."

Haley shrugged helplessly. "She was supposed to come, and I don't think she ever showed up and I think…Lucas was afraid something had happened."

LPLPLPLPLP

With difficultly, Lucas maneuvered the door to the gym open and stepped inside.

The crowd was still there, calmer but not by much.

The hush came slowly, and only affected to people on the outskirts of the mob as they noticed Lucas Scott, the Ravens player who had scored the game winning shot, holding an unconscious girl in his arms, both of them covered with blood in places.

Lucas raised his voice, "Someone call 911, _now_!"

A woman close to him rummaged in her purse and pulled out a cell phone, quickly dialing 911.

Lucas' voice seemed to be moving an autopilot. "Tell them we need an ambulance at the RBC center immediately…"

LPLPLPLPLP

Standing with Keith and Karen, both waiting for Nathan to be done with the endless photo opportunities and repeatedly trying Lucas' cell, Haley was only dimly aware of slight quieting of the commotion on the other side of the gym.

She sighed, hanging up the cell phone for what felt like the twentieth time. "Still no answer…he ran off so fast I doubt he went back to get it…"

Karen thanked her for trying, and Haley glanced over at her husband, a little disappointed for Lucas not being there for the celebration.

Nathan saw it first. Haley watched the grin on his face drop, watch his mouth round into a perfect O, watched the color drain from his face.

Haley turned, following his line of vision, and after a moment, she caught a glimpse at what had his attention.

"Oh, my God…"

Nathan ran forward, effectively ruining about twenty photos. Haley followed him instantly, as they moved through the crowd.

Karen touched her arm. "What is it?"

Haley seemed to lose the power to form words. She pointed forward.

LPLPLPLPLPLP

"Luke! What the hell happened?"

Lucas looked up from Peyton's face for the first time since he'd entered the gym. Nathan had shoved his way to the front of the crowd, followed by Haley, Karen and Keith.

"Rachel," he choked out.

Haley gripped her husband's arm. She was suddenly afraid she was going to be sick.

Nathan's face twisted, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "Where is she?"

"I-I left her. There was a car crash, but Peyton…she ran her over. I left her, about a mile down the road…"

Karen moved forward suddenly, desperately trying to keep her eyes on her son, rather than drift down to look at Peyton, who was disconcertingly still in his arms. "Luke. Did someone-"

"They called an ambulance, but…" He was fighting tears again; why wasn't it coming?

At the moment, he heard the sirens. The hush ad settled over the entire gym now, and suddenly a group of the basketball players and cheerleaders came into view.

Bevin gasped. Becky sent Teresa a horrified expression. "Did…did Rachel…?"

Haley's eyes were squeezed close. "_Yes_."

Paramedics flooded in, along with a few police officers.

"What's her name?" One asked Lucas, moving to take Peyton from him.

"P-Peyton Sawyer," he answered in a small voice. As he handed her over, he moved his hand to hers, threading their fingers together, never losing contact.

An officer addressed Lucas, who was standing by the stretcher as the paramedics bent over Peyton, "What happened?"

"She…she was hit by a car…on purpose…the girl who did it, she's still there…"

They began to take Peyton outside, toward the ambulance, and Lucas walked with them, never taking his eyes off Peyton, until the policeman put a hand on his arm. "We need to get a statement, son, you need to tell us-"

Panic rose again. "I-I have to go with her…I have to…" He met Nathan's eyes, his expression pleading.

In an instant, Nathan understood. He nodded slightly, then spoke, "Officer, the accident happened about a half mile down the road, we think there was a car crash first. The other driver, Rachel Gattina, she's still…."

As the officer turned his attention to Nathan, Lucas wordlessly handed the set of keys to Haley, and ran out without a word to his mother or anyone else, catching up in time to jump in the ambulance with Peyton.

Haley felt as though Nathan was talking from far away as he explained their limited knowledge of what had happened. She turned the keys over in her hands, her eyes focusing on a keychain photo of Teresa and her boyfriend. Of course; Rachel's license had been revoked.

Finally, the officer nodded, "We'll go check out the scene. But we're going to need to get a statement from Lucas at the hospital…"

"Fine," Nathan nodded. As soon as the officer's left, he turned to Haley, wild-eyed. "We have to go the hospital…"

"I know." She was suddenly on the verge of tears, and Nathan put an arm around her.

"Haley?" Teresa spoke up softly. "You….you can take my car…"

Haley stared at her. She was abruptly filled with a desire to slap Teresa as hard as she could, but managed to hold back. Instead, she spat, "You don't think you've helped enough? Besides…" She threw the keys down in front of her. "What car do you think Rachel did it with?"

Teresa's face paled, and Haley turned away, looking at Karen, "Can we get a ride?"

Looking thoroughly shaken, Karen nodded only slightly, until Keith's arm came around her and he addressed Haley and Nathan, "Come on."

LPLPLPLPLP

The paramedics were talking, brisk, big words that floated over Lucas like another language. He was crammed to the side on the ambulance, on the tiny bench like seat, his fingers still laced with Peyton's.

Lucas didn't often pray, but now, he was praying. He needed a miracle, for Peyton. She deserved a miracle, even if he didn't.

_Please_, he mentally repeated the word over and over again, deciding that God would understand what he needed. _Please_.

_Please don't take her from me._

_A/N: Review away! Some of the moments in this…the Lucas Peyton confrontation after the principal's office and of course the post-championship win sequence are scenes I've had planned for awhile, so I'd love to know your response. Thanks for reading as always. (Oh, and just a note…if Rachel's behavior seems too extreme, I get that…but I also get that this is the girl who, in canon even, stole God knows how much money from her only friend, lied about being pregnant, and of course swerved a limo off a bridge)_


End file.
